Denial
by Pyro146
Summary: Steve is struggling to cope with the change to such a modern world, but he tries to hide his distress. He's the Captain, the leader and he needs to be strong for his team. Natasha is trained to read men with ease and she seems to be the only one aware of Steve's troubles. Rated for language, violence and smut. All the good stuff.
1. Chapter 1

Steve sat perched on the barstool with his elbows resting on the wooden bench, his hands gingerly holding the bottle of whiskey that remained unopened. Every now and then he would consider undoing the cap and pouring a small amount into the glass that sat just to the side, placed there for such a purpose. He straightened up a little as he heard the hiss of the elevator door opening, even from his place across the other side of the large room.

Quiet footsteps approached him and he knew by instinct that it could only be one person who had the ability to move so silently even over a tiled floor.

He squared his muscular shoulders and turned to face Natasha as she walked towards him, noting instantly that her expression looked even more hardened than usual. He knew better than to ask what was bothering her, if she wanted to discuss something, she would always bring up the topic first, if the others wanted to talk and she did not, then she would shut down. He had come to understand that her mental defences were impenetrable.

But she had obviously come to the bar floor to specifically seek him out, he knew Tony had flown across the country to attend some gala and Bruce was down in one of the labs, Steve was the only one that was even in the top half of the tower. As she came closer he noted other things about her, a very slight shading under her eyes, suggesting a lack of sleep, an almost unnoticeable limp of her right leg, no doubt she was sporting a mild injury from her last mission. He could also see a minor scrape across her temple that reinforced a budding theory that a vast amount danger had been the theme of her work recently.

"Natasha." He greeted her with a smile and she just nodded back at him, her expression blank as always.

"Captain." She said, acknowledging his formal title over anything else, something Steve had become very used to.

Steve wanted to ask if she was okay, but the question never even came close to reaching his lips and he just remained silent, waiting for her to speak. To his surprise, she glanced at the bottle that was still in his hands and opted for an exchange of casual small talk instead of anything that suggested her reason for visiting the tower.

"Thought alcohol had no effect on you?" She asked, though it was somewhat rhetorical, considering she was well aware of the answer.

"It was a gift." Steve said, waving the bottle a little, shaking the liquid contents with a sloshing noise. "From Stark."

"I see." Natasha said simply, her eyes still on the bottle. "I wonder if it's a sarcastic gesture then. Giving you a high labelled brand, knowing it won't do anything to you."

Steve blinked in mild surprise, he hadn't considered that option. He had assumed Tony had just given to him and forgotten about his lack of reaction to the effects of alcohol. But her suggestion seemed much more plausible. He smiled slightly, what a crafty bastard. He noticed her stare remained trained on the bottle and he noted she looked almost distracted.

"Do you… want a drink?" He offered, not really expecting her to accept and taking no offense when she quickly shook her head.

"I'm here on official business." She said, her eyes finally lifting to meet his and her voice became as hardened as her expression. Steve could definitely tell that something was up, something was worrying her.

"Another army coming to invade Earth?" She joked weakly and she didn't seem amused. He sighed and placed the bottle down on the bar, turning back to face her, aware that the situation was very serious.

"What is it Romanoff?" He asked and saw it was the right way to proceed, the use of her last name seemed to make her more obliging and all pleasantries of the situation disappeared, becoming a business discussion.

"We need to call the team back in." She said calmly, her hands falling to her hips, his fingers digging in only slightly, but enough to suggest tension and stress. Steve was beginning to feel dread at the potential danger that he was waiting for her to announce. "Fury wants a meeting tomorrow, he hasn't told me much yet, I assume he wants us all there when he explains what is going on."

Steve had a feeling that even if she had been fully briefed, she still wouldn't have told him much anyway. He nodded, standing up and changing the position of who was taller. Even with her heeled boots, she was easily shorter than him. It gave her slightly subjugating look, as though she was weak but everybody who knew her was aware that she very much the opposite.

"I'll be there." He said, as though he even had a choice in the matter. A curious thought struck him and he tilted his head as he observed her. "You could have just called. Why give me the order in person?"

He saw a flicker of something in her eyes, but before he could try and understand it, it was gone, making him wonder if it had been imagined.

"I was just in the neighbourhood." She said simply. Steve did not have her skills in reading people and he was very aware that she was an expert deceiver, her job revolved around the ability to lie with absolute ease. But he would have bet his shield that she had just completely fibbed. He knew her flat was almost across the other side of the city and she would have no real reason to even be near the tower. He didn't press the matter and she seemed almost uncomfortable all of a sudden, as though she was concerned he had picked up her lie.

"I should go." She said and gave him a searching look, before turning and quickly striding back toward the elevator with purposeful steps. Steve was left to watch her, subconsciously noting the gentle sway of her hips as she walked and the tousle of her red hair as it moved about her shoulders. As far as experiences went between him and Natasha, that was certainly one of the stranger ones that had occurred so far.

* * *

Natasha cursed herself as she stepped into the elevator, purposely not letting herself turn back until the doors slid shut.

"I was just in the neighbourhood." She muttered under her breath, frowning. "Convincing." She had of course been absolutely nowhere near the tower, she had driven from the base on the outskirts of the city, just to deliver the news of the meeting. She could have called and Fury had given her no direct instructions to give the order in person.

She was concerned about why Fury had decided that a full call in was to be made, since the invasion the team wasn't really working as a whole, they each had their own lives to live and while they would be in contact every now and then, no threats had arisen that would require the Avengers to be fully reassembled.

She left the building and returned to her car, sliding in behind the wheel but pausing for a moment before making the move to start the ignition. She looked to the black case on the passenger seat and reached over, extracting the file from inside. She flipped through the pages of info until she found the one she had been reading over and over recently. The latest psyche report from the SHIELD issued physiologist that Steve had visited. It wasn't a concern that he had gone in for a visit, it had been a 'suggestion' from Fury, which had been more or less an order anyway. All SHIELD operatives were required to perform the exams on a regular basis. The content of the meeting however, was quite worrisome.

'_It's the same dream, over and over. Gunfire, screaming and blood. I can't see anybody and the images are all swirling, but I know that there is a lot of people in pain. I can't move, I can't help. I'm just useless.'_

'_How often do you have the dream?'_

'_Almost every night. It never changes in the slightest. Every single aspect always remains the same.'_

'_Do you think it's a flashback? To the war perhaps?'_

'_I don't know Doctor, I'm pretty sure there isn't anything familiar about it, but there aren't many details that even stand out. Is there anything you can do? I mean, I'm not a pill pusher, but I'm not exactly unfamiliar with the concept of having to take medication.'_

'_I'm afraid that anything I could actually prescribe would have no effect on you. According to the records I have, there isn't much that your system wouldn't simply override.'_

'_Thanks anyway I suppose. I'll be okay. I need to be.'_

Natasha closed the file and tucked it back into the case, inserting her key and starting the car, her expression completely stoic. She'd studied the full report from Dr. Gashling, who had informed the Director that he believed Steve's mental state was of no major concern and that he was just having trouble adjusting. Natasha believed differently, she had the feeling Steve was definitely struggling and she was a little worried that if he was unfit for duty then it could impact outcomes of any missions he was sent on. Not to mention it could be putting others in danger if he make any mistakes in the field.

"Yes." She said aloud as she pulled away from the curb. "I'm worried about the missions. And the _other_ agents. Not just Steve specifically."

She was an excellent liar, even to herself.


	2. Red

_He can't move, he can't breathe, he can't fight, he doesn't even know which way is up. The sounds are deafening but he has no idea where they are coming from. He can't see the blood, but knows it's all around him, there are rivers of it, gushing from all directions, originating from no specific source. The bullets begin to tear through the air and the screams get worse, the agony increases to a heartbreaking crescendo. It's always the same but it's just as horrific each and every time. _

_The concept has not become familiar, he is filled with as much dread as always and he knows he can do nothing but wait until it's over. All the images in front of his eyes are disorientating him and he can't focus on anything. His world is spinning in a vibrant swirl of chaos._

_And then he sees it. A flash of red that has never occurred before. It's not blood, he knows that with certainty, even while being aware of how thickly it flowed around him. It's a deeper red, an enchanting red. A beautiful red. It's new to his nightmare and he tries to reach out for it, but as usual his arms cannot move and he isn't surprised. The red haze moves, shifts ever so slightly as though under the command of a soft breeze and he can see a slight shape to it. Curls? Yes, definitely. Soft, vividly colored curls._

_The chaos around him ceases in a sudden moment that terrifies him more than the noises had. Everything is deadly silent and his eyes are still trying to focus on the new addition to his dream. A single gunshot rings out through the air and a woman screams in agonizing pain. Somehow, he has absolutely no idea how, it is his fault._

Steve awoke with the usual cold sweat and racing heart, his blue eyes snapping open as the dream left him and he was forced back into reality. Normally he would lunge out of bed and make a stumbling dash to the shower, as though the high pressured water would be able to wash away the slight trembling that he was reluctant to acknowledge. But this time he simply lay in the oversized bed and stared blankly at the roof, trying to wrap his head around the images his mind continued to plague him with. For nearly an entire month, the dream had been the same, but for some reason, it had suddenly changed and Steve was just as confused as he had always been.

He couldn't understand why he was having the reoccurring nightmare in the first place; it made no sense as to why there would now be something different within the horrors of his slumber. After ten minutes of pointless wondering and uneducated guesswork, he dragged himself from the comfortable bed and made his way into the bathroom. Like everything else in Stark tower, it was unnecessarily large and ridiculously high tech. His first shower there had been a mix of scalding burns and icy streams of water as he tried to comprehend the digital panel on the wall, marvelling at the need to have two showerheads.

JARVIS had been more helpful than Tony, who's sarcastic remarks were hard to deal with at the best of times and Steve was getting tired of the both the old man jokes and the subtle innuendos at his lack of intelligence. He would have much rather prefer to be showering and sleeping in his own flat, but after the fire, that was not much of a viable option.

Apparently microwaves aren't fond of heating up food in metal cans and it had been a bad idea to throw a bucket of water over the appliance when it started to spark and the small flames began to lick at the kitchen wall. He sighed as he stepped into the shower cubicle and adjusted the temperature to a suitable one, with just a sweep of his fingers. Not long until the remodelling would be finished and he could return to his simple flat, leaving all the ridiculous technology behind.

He had always been a simple man with simple tastes and he was counting the seconds until he could distance himself from the man who refused to cease the 'Capsicle' jokes.

* * *

All but one of the team had arrived to the briefing room at SHIELD's temporary base at the edge of the city, cunningly designed as a satellite station so that the general public would not dwell on the amount of military that would be travelling around the area. Everybody was on edge due to the lack of information they had been given and it didn't help that Tony was bordering on hostile.

"I'm just saying, it would be nice not to have to pull your asses out of the fire on a daily basis." He drawled, arms folded lightly across his chest as he leaned back in his chair and surveyed the group. "I take a small break to enjoy myself and I get dragged back here to clean up whatever mess had been made in my absence."

Nobody bothered to argue with him, though Clint looked like he was close to throttling the billionaire and Steve was wondering if he wouldn't let the archer have just a few minutes of satisfaction before he would have to step in and separate them.

"Now that you've all arrived, we need to get started." Fury said, standing at the front of the room with his hands clasped tightly behind his back. He looked almost bothered, a flicker of worry slipping through that infamous façade.

"Tasha isn't here yet." Clint said pointedly, dropping into the chair beside Bruce who was looking rather uncomfortable. Steve understood he was still not a fan of organizations like SHIELD, no matter how much Fury insisted they were to be trusted, there would always be secrets and lies.

"Romanoff is on duty at the present time." Fury informed them, making it clear that the details of her mission were not going to be discussed.

Steve didn't realize it until that very second, but he had been glancing at the door every few moments, subconsciously waiting for her to arrive. Every time he heard a noise in the hall he would turn, expecting his eyes to fall onto the vibrant red curls and the sauntering hips and-

Focus Rogers, focus on the task at hand.

He turned back to Fury, the two of them were the only ones standing but the others were not berating for choosing to take a seat, the Captain and the Director were always the ones that treated the meetings as entirely formal anyway.

"What is the problem?" Clint asked, absentmindedly picking at the nails of his left hand, "Why'd you call us all in, but not Tasha."

"Romanoff was briefed earlier." Fury explained, still offering no further explanation to her whereabouts or her objective.

"Spit it out Director." Tony drawled, earning something close to a glare from Fury, but he surprisingly obliged.

"We have reason to believe that an agent here at SHIELD has gone completely rogue." He said it in a startlingly casual manner, almost as if to suggest that there was no danger and the threat was minimal. But Steve was aware that the team would not be called in for a simple defection. That was Clint and Natasha's area, they dealt with disloyalty. Steve didn't like to think about that side of SHIELD too much.

"And this concerns me… how?" Tony asked, for once the sarcasm was left out of his voice, he seemed genuinely intrigued. He could be a colossal ass most of the time, but his mind was exceedingly sharp and he had also come to the conclusion that there was more at play than Fury had initially suggested.

"The security clearance of the agent in question, is one of the highest in the organization." Fury grinded his teeth ever so slightly. Steve realized instantly that the comment meant the agent was one of the most trusted and no doubt Fury was taking this as somewhat of a personal blow. His skills in reading people and making good character decisions had obviously come into question. He was most likely being berated by whoever he answered to.

"Yeah that still doesn't explain why I had to fly back across the country in the middle of the night." Tony said, the sarcastic tone returning.

"We have procedures in place for when this kind of thing happens." Fury explained, opting to ignore the way Tony had spoken. "The logs were studied and we found that some specific and highly sensitive information, had been downloaded to a personal hardrive that belonged to the agent."

"This information…" Bruce spoke up with a quiet voice that was still easy to hear by all of the others, "It pertains to us, doesn't it?"

"Afraid so Doctor." Fury said sombrely and there was a hint of an apologetic expression that was evidentially only offered toward Bruce and nobody else.

"What is the information?" Steve asked, resting his large hands on his hips as he looked at the Director, not exactly expecting him to give them the details.

"Personal info on all of you." Fury said calmly, bringing his hands from behind his back and clasping them in front of him. "Birthdates, lineage and family ties, current locations and mission statuses-"

"Weaknesses." Clint cut him off, sitting a little straighter. He knew this game, he knew what information he needed to get on a target before he made a move, this was his area and nobody was annoyed at him for interrupting the Director. "Someone, has all of our weaknesses on file, don't they?"

The hard stare and unblinking eye of Fury told them all that Clint was entirely correct.

"And Natasha has been sent to get this information back?" Bruce asked, not looking for any details in reference to the methods that she would be using.

The lack of any reaction from Fury was another confirmation.

"I suggest you all remain at this facility until Romanoff has returned with an update on the situation." Fury said calmly. He was leaving something out and they all knew it. Even if information on them had been taken, it seemed over excessive to ask them to remain at the base, clearly for the reason of how much security was there to protect them. Not that anybody on the team thought that they needed to be protected.

* * *

Steve had been in the gym for almost two hours, switching between the punching bag and the weights bay, ensuring to pace himself and not overexert his body, though that had become a difficult thing to do. Mid punch, he became aware of the door opening and he sighed, it was no doubt Stark returning to crack another joke and he was starting to get really tired of him.

"Captain."

The single word somehow managed to lace him with dread as he dropped his fists and turned toward Fury, a very slight sheen of sweat glistening across his skin. Something, was _very_ wrong.

"Agent Romanoff has failed to check in." Fury said, no beating around the bush, no subtle hinting.

"How much of a concern is it?" Steve asked, refusing to let himself panic until he knew all the facts.

"She contacted us every 20 minutes, as was instructed. Each time was brief but she was not a second late. We haven't heard from her since almost an hour ago."

Steve remained blank faced as his breathing steadied and his body eased down from the work out. He knew how good Natasha was with procedure, even if something had gone wrong, she would have found any possible way to try and contact Fury. If she had been silent for so long, then it was definitely a serious issue. She was an exceptionally capable woman and she was anything but stupid, she would not willingly let herself be put in danger.

Yes, something was _very_ wrong indeed.

Somewhere In the back of his mind, he heard the sound of a single gunshot and then a woman screaming with agonizing pain.

* * *

**Thanks for the reviews so far, reviews are definitely appreciated so I know how I'm doing or how I could improve.**


	3. Intruder

A shadowed figure stumbled down with street, seemingly undisturbed by the heavy rain as they grabbed anything and everything in an effort to keep them upright. The night was darkening rapidly, the moon hidden behind stormy clouds and even the streetlights seemed to be dimmer than usual.

Those who saw the strange figure pass them, assumed it was a case of inebriation, or possibly drugs. The city was known for its detestable lowlife that surfaced at night, there were all sorts of insane people and deranged maniacs that would call the darkness their home. One group of men laughed at the disorientated stumbling, all sorts of vulgarly offensive jokes were hurled into the air.

No one knew that the figure was being carefully followed, a game of espionage was at play that did not concern the general public, it was a game of subtlety. The players were experts in their field and they all knew what they were doing, the target included. But she was in no state to perform at her peak and she continued to stumble, for once, her movements were not for the show of seeming weak and vulnerable. She knew she was in trouble, but she could do very little about it.

The blood running onto the pavement went unnoticed as she limped her way through the rain, letting it wash away any evidence of her presence. She could not go home, her flat had been compromised and even if there were not people following her, she would expect a trap of some description to be waiting at her house.

The base was also an option not available to her, even if she could make her way across the city without bleeding out, for the moment it retained its secrecy. She had managed to end the life of the rogue agent before the location was revealed, but she had not been able to get her hands on the hardrive. And she had been severely injured in the process.

The men behind her had no idea that she was even aware of their presence, which was insulting in itself. She was the Black Widow, she may have been injured and unable to walk straight, but she was able to pick up the fact that she was being fucking tailed. And they were not even amateurs, professionals to the core, yet she still knew they were there.

She had been saving her strength, letting herself limp and stumble so that when she finally came up with a plan, she could use whatever her body could offer her. The rain had soaked through to her skin, chilling her and making it harder to think but she managed to push the aching of her bones away, even the pain from her injuries seemed less prominent as her mind slowly formed a plan.

Without warning, certainly shocking her followers, she threw her body to the side, diving into the entrance of a short alley. Her haphazard movements became organized and solid, her feet placed carefully as she broke into a sprint and all but flew toward the end of the alley. She leapt into the air and her trembling fingers took hold of the bar at the top of the metal fence, swinging her body up and over, leaving a smear of blood across the pole. She landed lighter than would have thought possible, but still heavier than she would have normally, her limbs contorted into a smooth crouch. Without hesitation she was upright and moving fast again, able to hear the sound of footsteps chasing her.

They had been so silent previously, so content with remaining in shadows, suspecting she was no threat in the slightest. But the Black Widow should never be underestimated. Instinct told her to stay and fight, there was a slim chance she could take the men and she had already concluded there was no more than four of them. Such a low number to be trying to bring her down. But if someone managed to land even a single lucky shot, then she had no hope. She was barely able to walk, let alone run, her energy was almost spent and she was having trouble keeping the pain at bay.

It took all her effort to lose the tails, clearing fences into residential homes, taking a shortcut through a desolate park that housed only a swing set, all the while clutching the left side of her abdomen tightly. She could not let herself bleed out, she needed to reach her destination. Even when she finally got there, she circled the block a couple of times, keeping low and running fast. She needed to be certain that there was no one that could follow her, the location was perhaps the only one uncompromised and it was her last hope.

She tripped up the front steps and let herself sprawl out undignified for just a moment. Her breathing was becoming increasingly difficult and she grimaced as she glanced down at her main wound, blood covering her hand in an alarming way. With a shaky gasp, she pulled herself upright and fell against the front door, pushing down on the handle and stepping inside. She hand to cling to the door to avoid falling over and she hurriedly leaned her body against the wall as the alarm sounded in the air.

She cursed as trembling fingers tried to bypass the alarm code, her frustration welling until she yanked the panel away and severed the two wires that routed directly into the power source. As she kicked the door shut behind her, her vision swam and she finally allowed herself to succumb to the unconsciousness she had been fighting. Her body swayed and fell, what was left of her mind waited for the painful landing on the hardwood floor, but it never came. She could have sworn she heard her name exclaimed in shock, but her connection with reality was failing and the darkness was already claiming her into its embrace.

* * *

The reason Steve had been allowed to leave the base, was because Fury understood he was going stir-crazy and also that he could be trusted. He was the one person that was guaranteed to return without another squad being sent after him to bring him back.

It had been almost 12 hours since Natasha had last checked in and at the 4 hour mark, Fury had decided to tell the others. Clint had been unbearable to deal with at first, refusing to just sit at the base and wait for news. Steve felt for him, his partner was evidently in danger and the longer they waited, the more dangerous the situation seemed.

Nobody wanted to voice their thoughts about Natasha having been put through a swift execution, but they were all thinking it.

Steve had requested to leave mainly to appease Clint, who was driving them all wild, like a child hopped up on Halloween candy and refusing to shut the hell up. Fury had approved Steve's request with no real hope, if the teams of agents that had already been sent out had not come up with any clues, then what chance did Steve have to discover anything?

He had checked every location he could think of, her flat, the tower, Clint's flat, even some of the restaurants she had mentioned she enjoyed. But that was more of a last resort and desperate clinging to hope. After hours of finding no results and having Fury call him every thirty seconds for an update, Steve made the decision to visit his own flat.

He hadn't been there for awhile and he received a warm feeling of familiarity the moment he laid eyes on it. He quickly put the car into the garage, even though he didn't plan on staying long and jogged up the front steps. The alarm beeped in a strange greeting and he entered the code to shut the sound off, revelling in the simple silence.

Everything was under plastic sheets, the furniture needed to be covered so the painters could do their job and Steve slid his hands into his pocket as he walked through the lounge, dodging random obstacles. He moved into the kitchen, which he saw the painters were evidently in the current process of completing, their equipment was laid around casually, ready for them to start next time. It would be two days before they came back, taking a break to enjoy the weekend. He glanced around with mild interest, noting the bucket of water that had an assortment of instruments sticking out of it.

He pulled his right hand from his pocket to pick one of the brushes up and his phone was brought out too. His eyes widened as he watched the device fall toward the water, his hand flinging forward by reflex to grasp it. He grinned triumphantly as he felt his hand close around it, saving it from a watery demise. The smile slid off his face as he loosened his fingers and watched the twisted pieces of metal fall from his hand, the crushed cell phone no longer usable.

A sigh escaped his lips, but it was not audible over the sudden beeping of his alarm. He squared his shoulders and frowned, he was never going to get the hang of the damn thing, as to why he even bothered having one installed, he had absolutely no clue. He stormed back through his flat with the very real possibility of punching the alarm with brute force bordering on his mind.

He was stunned as he saw the hooded figure leaning against the wall, yanking open the panel of the alarm to fill the house with silence once again. He went unnoticed as the door was slammed shut and the figure suddenly slumped, shaky legs giving out entirely. Though Steve didn't even know who it was initially, he was driven forward with outstretched arms and slid to his knees, catching the intruder just before they hit the ground.

"Natasha!" Steve exclaimed as he saw her face, smeared with a blood that contrasted slightly with the red hair falling out from under the hood. Even as he spoke her name, it was clear she had fallen unconscious, her breathing seemed to be shockingly faint and her skin was pale. He could feel how wet her body was, the clothes were soaked from the rain and from-

His eyes widened as he saw how much blood was actually covering her, his mind had been somewhat relieved at finally locating his missing team member, but all that was forgotten as he realized how much trouble she was in. His face hardened as he rose easily to his feet and held her tightly to his chest, keeping one arm under her knees and the other securely around her shoulders. He tried to manoeuvre the door open with his foot, his lips pressed into a hard line at the ridiculous effort needing to be used. He must have jostled her more than he thought, her eyes flickered open for just a moment and even though they seemed hazy and confused, when she managed to speak, he realized she must be at least slightly lucid.

"Steve?" Her voice was strained and broken, weaker than he'd ever heard it sound. She'd also called him by his first name, he wasn't sure if she had ever done that before.

"Natasha, it's going to be okay." He said soothingly, pausing in his motions to try and open the door. She must have been able to understand what he was doing because her eyes widened a little and she coughed as she desperately tried to speak again. He wanted to shush her, she looked to be in no condition to be stressing herself out further, but whatever was on her mind was clearly important.

"Don't go…outside." She gasped, a sickening gurgle coming from low in her throat. She turned her head to the side and coughed again, Steve was able to feel her entire body seizing with the effort. He watched as she spat a large amount of blood onto his nicely polished floor, but he did not give a shit about the mess. "Being…followed.."

"Were you followed here?" Steve asked suddenly and moved to place his back against the wall, holding Natasha even closer to his chest as he peered suspiciously through the small window beside the front door.

"Lost them…" She gasped, her eyes seemed to be having trouble focusing, "But.. still could be around…" She coughed again and Steve's gaze was drawn away from the outside world, understanding that Natasha was in need of serious medical attention.

"Hang in there Romanoff." He said with a commanding tone as he moved through the house and into the bathroom, one of the rooms that had been completely untouched by the fire. "We need to get you sorted out so you can give the team a full debriefing." There was an order in his words that managed to hide the concern that he was feeling. He was well aware that it was not something she would appreciate seeing from him at a time like this.

"Yes Captain." She mumbled, her voice sounding quiet and unsure of itself. Steve cursed inside his mind as her eyes closed and her head fell against his chest.

"Oh no you don't." He said loudly, giving her a shake to rouse her from her state. He knew she needed to be kept awake, the amount of blood she had lost was evident, her clothes were almost completely stained red. He propped her against his large shoulder as he reached into the medicine cabinet and grabbed a kit, the only sort of medical supplies he had in the house but they would have to do.

"You want to tell me why you broke into my house, agent?" Steve asked in a reprimanding tone as he quickly walked into the bedroom, noting the absence of any fire damage in there also. He certainly had been lucky, as everybody seemed to keep telling him.

He tore the plastic sheet away from the bed and set her gently down, feeling a wave of guilt as the motion sent an expression of pain across her face. Before he could even begin to apologize, she was speaking again.

"Don't play that …card with me." She gasped, one hand clutching her abdomen as her back arched. "You weren't..ah… supposed to be here…"

"So you were just going to squat in my house?" Steve asked, tight lipped as he pulled her hand away from the wound. She fought him, but she was laughably weak in comparison to him and he just pinned her wrist down beside her waist.

"That was the plan." She mumbled and coughed again, the sound making Steve wonder just how much blood was coming up her throat. He needed to tend to her wounds before they could even think of getting her to a hospital, her skin seemed paler since she first arrived and from the way her eyes looked, it seemed she was getting dizzier and dizzier. It was shocking to Steve that she could even remain conscious.

"I'm going to have to remove your shirt Romanoff." Steve said with an official sort of tone as he opened the med kit and pulled out a cloth, unsure of what he was going to find, but knowing that the blood had to be wiped away.

"You men are …all the same.." She gasped, her eyes shutting to try and alleviate the pain, "Can't wait to get me.. out of my.. clothes."

Steve was glad her eyes were shut, meaning she was unable to see the pink hue that suddenly filled his cheeks. Refusing the draw the process out, he took hold of her jacket and shredded the front of it, rapidly repeating the action for her shirt. He inhaled sharply as he saw the wound and the cloth in his hand was pressed to it straight away, though it seemed a fairly useless solution.

"How's it look Doc?" Natasha murmured, with an undercurrent of sarcasm. That was good, she was strong enough to even attempt to tease him.

"I've seen mosquito bites that are more troubling." Steve said calmly reaching for another cloth. "Surprised you didn't just stitch this one up yourself."

"I would have normally… but I had followers who would have interrupted me-" She cut off to cough again and Steve had to place a gentle hand on her chest to hold her down as she tried to sit up.

"Take it easy Romanoff. That's an order." Steve said, giving her a hard stare. She was not an injured civilian, she did not need compassion and understanding. She did not need a shoulder to cry on, she needed authority and direction. She needed something to focus on.

Steve returned his attention to her wound, pleased to see the flow of blood had stemmed. Either that or she was running out of blood and it had no option but to stop flowing. He pulled the cloth away and frowned, the wound was a mess, he knew with certainty that it had not been the result of being shot.

"Natasha what happened here?" He asked, his eyebrows knitted with concern as he reached for a saline solution to try and cleanse the wound. Before she could answer he had another thought. "Do you have a phone or a radio? I need to call base, let them know you're alive."

She shook her head, her eyes still shut tightly and from the way her cheeks were shaped he guessed she was chewing on her tongue to avoid making any noises of distress.

"What happened to you?" He asked again, after wiping the wound down, surprised at her lack of reaction to the liquid which had probably stung like hell.

"Stabbed." She exhaled the word, letting out a breath that she had obviously been holding in.

Steve raised his eyes brows but said nothing. It didn't look like she had _just_ been stabbed, it looked as though somebody had thrust a knife into her abdomen and held her still while it was twisted and turned at all sorts of impossible angles.

"How could you let this happen?" He murmured, not intending for her to hear it. Her eyes flew open and he saw anger in them, making him believe he had just spoken the worst thing possible when having an injured Natasha Romanoff in front of him.

"I didn't _let _it happen." She said with something of a snarl, her eyes narrowing dangerously at him. Steve felt terrible, he hadn't meant it to sound such a way and there was nothing he could do to take it back. He was waiting for her to attack him, trying to decide if he would even be able to defend himself.

His salvation came in the form of disaster as his heightened hearing picked up a shout from somewhere outside the house. Just as he took a step in the direction of the window, the sound of automatic gunfire cut through the silence of the night and the shattering off glass sent him diving toward Natasha. He rolled her off the bed as the bullets pounded into the walls all around them, knowing that he caused her pain as he landed on top of her, but it couldn't be helped.

He curled his body protectively around her as debris rained down upon them, barely aware of the multiple weapons that were being used to tear through his house. He could feel her hands clutching at the material of his shirt, almost in an effort to pull him closer and he realized with shock, that she was trying to pull him down out of the path of the bullets.

Even while injured and in more danger, she was showing her worry for him. After a moment the attacking stopped and the only thing he could hear was the breathing that came raggedly from both him and Natasha.

"Alright move in!" Came a shout from outside and the very distinct sound of heavy footsteps running up the front stairs. Steve didn't care about how much his next action was going to hurt Natasha, all he could think about was getting her away from the danger. He moved back and scooped her roughly into his arms, amazed that she didn't cry out with the pain. He stumbled into the hallway and sprinted toward the back door, kicking it open with such a force that the whole thing was torn off the hinges.

He didn't see the men until it was too late and even then, his arms were being used to hold up Natasha, he had no way to defend himself. He watched helplessly as one of the masked men raised the weapon in his hand and fired without a moment of hesitation.

He heard the single gunshot ring out through the air and he stumbled backward, grunting as pain exploded in his shoulder.

Natasha was flung from his arms and he toppled over, watching in slow motion as she crashed into the ground, her arms flinging out to fight off the men who were already trying to grab her.

The sound of her scream filled his ears, his eyes locking with her terrified ones for a moment before he was forced to close them, the effort to keep them open was too much. She was screaming for him, he knew that much. No enemy could ever bring Natasha fear, but the fall of her Captain was enough to rouse the humanity inside her.

As the darkness invaded his mind and he heard her body being slammed with blows from the men, he knew with absolute certainty, that it was his fault.

* * *

**Oops, didn't mean for this one to be so long, just kind of got away on me. Enjoy anyway!**


	4. Lies

Captain America was dead.

Natasha feebly tried to deny the claims, her mind refused to believe that he could have fallen so easily, but she had been there and she had seen it all. She had watched him fall, powerless to help him as those blue eyes closed and the blood flowed freely from the wound in his shoulder. Her captors would torment her with the scene, repeating the news that he had died until she shouted at them to stop.

He was dead, because of her. She hadn't known he would be there, he wasn't supposed to be and it had shocked her to wake up in his arms, to see those comforting eyes gazing down at her, filled with concern. He had survived a war, being imprisoned in ice and even the battle with invading aliens led by a scorned God, but all it had taken was for her to bring the danger to him and finally cause his demise.

She was riddled with a painful guilt and it showed no sign of ebbing.

Her captors had forced her to drink a small amount of clear liquid, after tying her to a chair in a brightly lit room. She had been interrogated before, the liquid had almost tasted familiar and she was well aware that it was some sort of serum that would encourage her to answer the questions thrown at her. She had remained silent, biting on her own tongue in an effort to refrain from giving in to their demands. Periodically she would turn her head to the side and spit out the blood that filled her mouth, brought out by her own teeth.

Pain was something she was very familiar with and she could handle any amount. It shocked her that her knife wound had been stitched up, perhaps not with the most sterile of equipment, or even by a person who had any sort of medical knowledge, but it was clear that she wasn't allowed to bleed out before the questioning could be completed. Her ribs ached from being pummelled by the men who took her, she knew there would be some colourful bruising forming on her skin but the wounds would heal eventually. If she was allowed to live.

It was difficult to judge the time frame, but she figured it was about three hours after she had been taken that the door to the small room opened and a man stepped through, different from any of the other usual thugs. He walked with a little more dignity, his shoulders were set higher and his face was far more composed. The most noticeable difference however, was the complete lack of humanity in his eyes.

"How are you feeling Natalia?" Her eyes narrowed as he approached her and dropped into a crouch just in front of her, but careful to stay out of her reach. She was tied with her arms behind her back and her ankles together, but he seemed to understand that she could still probably attack him if she managed to summon the energy.

"It's Natasha." She said simply, a small bubble of blood ran down the side of her jaw. The man ignored it and held up an electronic device with a flat screen. She glanced at it, showing no reaction as she saw her own image in the centre of the screen, with her real name beside it.

"Not, according to this." Her visitor said calmly. "And this is information gathered directly from SHIELD I imagine it will all be correct."

"Probably." Natasha said quietly, her eyes glaring daggers at the screen as she read the info and cringed at every new line. SHIELD was not supposed to know half of the things that she was reading, secrets that she thought she had managed to keep in the dark. There was no possible way for them to have gleamed most of the info and yet it was all right there in front of her.

The man seemed amused by the expression on her face, but he didn't comment on it, simply flicked his hand across the screen and a picture of Tony came up, then one of Clint.

"Our little informant managed to get some very useful data for us. Before you shot him." He moved his fingers again and she was briefly shown a picture of Steve with a red stamp across his face, bold letters forming the word 'DECEASED'. She closed her eyes for a moment and felt that overwhelming wave of guilt renew its torment within her. She would never be forgiven and she would never forgive herself.

"Tell me what you know about this man." She opened her eyes to see a photo of Bruce and was instantly confused, there was very little information showing on the screen, not much more than a written description of his appearance and a few notes about his past.

"I don't know who that is." Natasha said calmly, her excellent skills in lying making themselves known. Obviously the serum had worn off and she had been allowed to continue her deception. She watched the man's face out of the corner of her eye, triumphantly noting his indecision. He was certain that she did in fact know who Bruce was, but he also believed her answer.

"He's one of your moles, isn't he?" She knew that Bruce was no such thing, but it would put her captor on the defensive and unbalance him. Though she appeared to be predictable, she was anything but. He didn't say anything for a while and she wasn't surprised, clearly he was having to rethink his tactics.

"Maybe you aren't as useful as we initially thought." He was watching her carefully, trying to gauge her reaction to the comment. But she knew it was a bluff.

"I guess not." She sighed gently. "So, firing squad? Maybe throw me off a bridge into a river? How _will_ you dispose of my body?" She turned her head toward him, a genuinely interested expression on her face. Again, she put him off balance and she had to hide her smile.

"I'm sure I could come up with something creative." He chuckled eerily and smoothly moved to a standing position. "Now if you'll excuse me." He turned and walked toward the door, letting himself out and leaving her alone once again. She moved her shoulders to try and counter the aching in her muscles, knowing that she was probably going to be in that position for a long time and she had nothing to do but simply wait.

* * *

The moment Steve opened his eyes he knew that he was no longer sprawled across his back lawn, the shockingly bright light above him was clearly an unnatural source. The pain from his shoulder was still evident, but it was dulled significantly and he glanced down to see a thick bandage wrapped over the wound. Almost methodically he tried to sit up and multiple hands were placed onto his torso to push him back down.

People were yelling his name as he tried to push the arms away, his strength was still powerful, even while injured.

"Goddam it Steve just lie down!" Bruce sounded almost angry as he tried to stop Steve from getting up. He failed and Steve had swiftly pulled himself into a sitting position, batting away at the hands that continued to fight him.

"Where is she!" Clint's face appeared in front of him and Steve blinked dazedly, his mind still trying to come back into reality.

"She was taken." He managed to mumble, his own voice sounded surprisingly weak and far off. He took a moment to calm himself and catch his breath, ignoring Clint as he continued to demand answers. "You have to find Natasha, she's injured, it's bad."

"Don't worry about her okay, just take it easy." Bruce's voice had turned into a more soothing one as he realized his battle had been lost. Steve felt rage at the comment, how dare he tell him not to worry!

"Find her!" He yelled, "You should be out there looking for her! Not surrounding me, I'm fine!"

"You've been shot Captain." Fury stood in the doorway for a moment before walking toward Steve, who's anger abated instantly in the presence of his superior. "We are tracking every lead possible, but right now I need you to try and get some rest." Fury definitely looked concerned but Steve couldn't tell if that worry was directed toward himself or Natasha.

"Sir," He began respectfully, "Natasha is in serious danger, she has a brutal wound and the men who took her do not seem to be the gentle type. Every moment that the team is not searching for her, is a moment wasted." Fury put his hands behind his back and raised his single eyebrow at Steve.

"I'm aware of this Captain, like I said, we are following the leads that we have."

"That's not good enough!" Clint exclaimed before Steve could even speak. He seemed to be the only other person who was as animated about finding Natasha. "If she's injured then we need to find her now!"

"Agent Barton you _will_ get a hold on yourself." Fury said with a commanding tone. Clint scowled but didn't argue back. Even he was aware that yelling and fighting was not a logical step that would aid in the search of their team mate. Steve made a movement to get off the bed but Fury stepped forward and held out his hand as Bruce started to protest once again.

"Stay where you are Captain, that's an order." Fury said calmly, enraging Steve though he showed little reaction. "We need you to get your strength back. If you want to assist in the search then you need to be at peak condition, you will only be a hindrance if you waltz into the field while injured."

"He's right Steve." Bruce moved to a bench across the medical lab and picked up a fresh bandage and a damp cloth. "You lost a good deal of blood, even with the serum inside you, you need to give your system a chance to recuperate." Steve let Bruce change the bandage across his shoulder and clean the wound again, saying nothing as Bruce remarked that it looked good and was healing well.

"How did you find me?" Steve asked no one in particular.

"We traced the last location of your cell as soon as the signal went off-line." Fury explained with a hint of annoyance in his tone. "You should have informed me of where you were headed."

"I hadn't planned to stay long." Steve admitted, painfully aware that things might have gone differently if he had told someone that he was making a stop at his flat. They might have been able to get Natasha back before she was taken once again. "And I had no idea she was there. It seemed like a fluke coincidence when I heard her breaking in. She said she didn't know I would be there either."

"This is all some lovely touchy feely crap." Clint said as he folded his arms tightly across his chest. "But my partner is still missing. She's out there right now, probably being tortured to within an inch of her sanity, can we please focus on getting her back before we find her body dumped on the main road somewhere?"

Steve tried not to flinch at the images his mind provided in connection with Clint's brutal words, he knew it was all worst case scenario. But they weren't exactly dealing with nice people and he had to accept that wherever Natasha was, she was not being treated with any sort of comforting luxuries. The sound of metal snapping filled the lab and Steve looked down in surprise, unaware that he had even been clutching the frame of the bed so tightly.

"Romanoff is not a Girl Guide." Fury said with an emotionless tone, "She can handle more than anybody is willing to give her credit for. She knew what she was risking when I sent her on the mission and she is quite capable of dealing with all sorts of sinister situations."

The words were obviously meant to reassure Clint and Steve, but from the expressions on their faces, it was clear the purpose had failed. It only reminded them that to break Natasha, brutal efforts would have to be used. It was not pleasant to think about, yet all Steve could focus on was the sound of her screaming and the look in her eyes as he was shot. He was terrified that it was going to be the last memory he would have of her and it was not the way that he would like to have to remember her.


	5. A Little Satisfaction

"That is not good enough!" Steve's voice sounded throughout the gym and echoed off the walls with so much force it was almost visible. Yet Fury didn't bat an eyelash and even took another step toward the supersoldier, hands clasped tightly behind his back.

"I understand Captain, but at this stage there is very little we can do." Fury remained entirely calm, even as he saw the rage boiling to the surface of the man in front of him. He was a little surprised by such an animated reaction, especially since Steve was known for maintaining a cool demeanour while under stress.

Steve was breathing heavily, sweat glistening across his skin after an intense workout that proved his shoulder injury was no longer an issue. He had been in the gym for most of the day and had not bothered to switch up his routine, just continued to lay vicious blows into the reinforced punching bags. The only breaks he had taken were when he managed to split the punching bags and had to put a new one up. It had been awhile since his punches had broken the bags, they had been redesigned to withstand even his intense strength. Evidently those designs were far from adequate.

"We can't just give up!" Steve yelled, a slight pink tinge reaching his cheeks as the anger fuelled itself. "She is one of your top agents! She's part of the team!"

"I am _not_ giving up." Fury said with just a little heat in his tone, feeling the need to make that very clear. "This is _not_ about giving up. This is about shifting priority, if there are no leads then there is no way to-"

"NOT GOOD ENOUGH!" Steve yelled, turning toward the bag and punching it with enough force to snap the chain and sending it skittering across the floor. It may have seemed a childish action, but it was either the bag takes a hit, or Fury does. Again, the Director showed no reaction, though inside his mind the wheels and cogs were running over time. It was certainly unusual for Steve to be acting this way, agents went missing all the time and some of those people did not return. The longer they were out of contact, the lower the odds of them ever returning.

Steve never showed such an issue of those cases and yet he was visibly losing control over Natasha's disappearance.

"It has been almost four days since she was last seen." Fury was very careful to remain calm and to chose his words. "Agent Barton is taking the complete lead on this case and I have given him full reign."

Steve almost breathed a sigh of relief, he knew that Clint would stop at nothing to get his partner back. He would scour every inch of the city and interrogate every last citizen until he found Natasha. And then if that failed he would search the entire world. He would definitely find her and he would sweep her into his arms, refusing to leave her side until she was completely nursed back to health from whatever injuries she had received. Then she would see Clint as her rescuer and finally reciprocate all the emotional feelings that Clint had been trying to keep a secret.

The sound of Steve's knuckles cracking was loud enough to bring him out of the hypothetical scenario he was forming in his mind. He blinked for a second, a little confused at how the thought of Natasha having feelings for Clint had gotten him so frustrated.

"Everything alright Captain?" Fury asked calmly, telling Steve that his face was a mix of confusing expressions.

"Yes sir." Steve said quickly, reigning his composure back in. "I'm requesting to work alongside Barton on this one."

Fury nodded, he had expected nothing less and gave him instructions on where to locate Clint.

* * *

"Wake up." The hard slap to the face was enough to rouse Natasha, but it hadn't been necessary, she was only just dozing and a simple nudge would have sufficed. Not that she was surprised by the force used. She blinked and glanced around, letting out a groan as the ache in shoulders reached a painful level that was barely tolerable.

"Ready to talk?" She glanced up and let her vision take its time to focus on the face just in front of her. The illumination of the room had increased dramatically during her stay, lights shone from all angles to ensure disorientation and prevent her from falling asleep. Yet the latter purpose had failed and she knew that would bother her captors somewhat.

"Sure." Natasha drawled, having to swallow a couple time to allow her voice to even be audible. "Just tell me what you want to know." She tried to ignore the dizzying waves as her body desperately tried to use energy that it did not have access to. How long had it been since she had last eaten? Three, four days? A week? It was hard to understand the passage of time while in that room. She had managed to trick them into letting her take a drink of water, offering the promise of information to be exchanged. In their eagerness they were foolish enough to take her at her word and were not pleased when she refused to complete her side of the bargain.

She knew there was no way she was going to be able to repeat that particular ruse. The consequences had been painful enough and her ribs were still aching from the beating she received.

"You know exactly what we want to know." She was still having trouble concentrating on the figure in front of her, it was becoming difficult to keep her head up and she couldn't stop it lolling to the side at random intervals. She was well aware that she most likely appeared to be intoxicated, but her mind was clear enough to know that she wasn't under any influence of drugs or alcohol. They had been trying various methods and though the mix of chemicals in her system had encouraged her to vomit with shocking force, she remained as unwilling to answer their questions as always.

"It is the Captain's funeral today." That comment made Natasha's vision clear almost instantly and she focused on the man who was grinning down at her. Different men had been sent in to try and extract information from her, this particular one had been in perhaps more than the others. She wasn't sure if that meant he was better at his job or not, but he had failed as much as the rest had.

"Just tell us what we want to know and we will let you go to the funeral."

It was such a blatant lie that Natasha almost laughed. Evidently they thought she was too weak to have to put any effort into trying to deceive her.

"No you won't." She said quietly, her throat rubbing painfully as she spoke, lacking any sort of moisture. "You think I don't know that you'll just kill me the moment I give you the info you want-" She cut off, her body convulsing into a painful coughing fit that made her feel woozy and nauseous.

"Then why not make it all easier?" The man spoke with a soothing tone, one that did not fool Natasha for a moment. "Give us what we want and we will give you that easy release."

This time Natasha managed to laugh, though it pained her chest greatly. "That really isn't much incentive." She chuckled, wincing every other second. "You are supposed to convince me that freedom will be my prize."

The man leaned close enough for her to see the white of his teeth as he continued to smile at her, undeterred by her humourless laughter.

"Oh? You think you should be giving tips for interrogation-" He was cut off by her forehead slamming into his nose with brutal force. Blood spurted out immediately and Natasha felt some of it land on the side of her face, running down her neck. It was a little undignified and she frowned, but the howl of pain she caused was more than enough to make up for it. She watched the man stumble backward, clasping at his face as blood flowed from between his fingers.

"My nose! You bitch!" She could barely understand the gurgled words but she knew what he would be ranting about as he continued to swear at her with a pained voice. Natasha allowed herself to dwell on her small moment of satisfaction as she watched the seemingly endless blood flow and was able to ignore the aching of her body.

She tried to hide her sigh as the door to the room burst open and slammed against the wall, three men rushing in with menacing expressions. Two of them grabbed the man who she had injured and dragged him from the room while the third approached her and leaned in close, despite her just having broken the nose of his comrade.

"You do not understand the predicament you are in!" He growled, earning nothing but a blank stare and silence from Natasha. She was still moving her wrists behind her back, trying to subtly free herself from her bonds but she was no closer to breaking them. "You _will_ give us what we want."

Her reflexes had been significantly dulled due to lack of food or water and she wasn't entirely surprised as his closed fist connected with her temple before she had any chance to react. Unconsciousness was immediate and she was only too happy to accept the numbing of the pain.

* * *

"We know where she is." Clint slammed his fist down on the steel table as Steve jumped from his seat and stared hard at the archer.

"You sure?" Steve asked, noting the blood that was smeared across Clint's knuckles and not caring that the information had been extracted from his target by brutal methods.

"Yes." Clint nodded. "The guy is a piece of shit but there was no way he was lying. I was able to get Natasha's location out of him, even while he lacked half his teeth." There was a growl in his tone that suggested Clint had enjoyed every moment of his interrogation with the other mole SHIELD had managed to track down.

"And she's alive?" Steve asked almost hesitantly, needing to be reassured.

"Definitely." Clint scowled in a way that showed his anger. "Tash can handle _anything_."

Steve squared his shoulders and balled his fists, adorning a vicious expression that surprised even Clint, who wasn't used to seeing such an anger from his Captain.

"Ready to go?" Steve asked calmly, despite the fire in his eyes. To Steve's shock, Clint smiled. It wasn't a warm one, it wasn't even a smirk, it could only be described as pure evil. As he took his bow from the table and loaded the quiver onto his back, he met Steve's eyes and gave a small nod.

"I almost –_almost _ feel sorry for the guys who took her." He said quietly. Both men had the expressions of people who were setting out to fight a war, all mercy and forgiveness was going to be left behind.


	6. Rescue

It was a cruel way to wake Natasha up, but highly effective. The first splash of icy water was enough to rouse her slightly, but she was disorientated and dizzy. The next bucket full woke her right up and her eyes snapped open even as her body began to shiver. A third steam of water was tossed over her body, ensuring that she was well and truly soaked through what little clothing remained. Her pants and jacket had been removed but she remained in her tank top and underwear, which provided absolutely no defence against the sudden icy water that drenched her.

It also did nothing to help her cracked lips and aching throat, there was no way to drink any of it and she wouldn't anyway, for all she knew it was tainted with some kind of poisonous chemical. Normally she would have been able to smell that kind of thing but none of her senses seemed to be working efficiently. Even with the various men yelling at her, she could barely keep her eyes open and she had no idea what they were saying.

Every part of her had accepted that she was going to die and she knew it was coming soon. Her mind had finally let the agony of her body overtake and logic ruled her thoughts. Her life had been full of so much pain and it was finally coming to a close in a way that suited her. She knew she wasn't going to be getting out of it, she knew she wasn't going to be rescued. No one would be coming for the little assassin that had managed to get taken by the enemy. Because of her, the Captain had been killed. She knew the others would blame her and hate her. She would never be forgiven.

Agents were killed all the time but Steve was different. He was a part of their team and he was the leader. They may not all be working together but he was always respected as the man in charge and he would always be listened to. And she had caused his death. She hated that her last moments were going to be full of regret and pain, but she had always known it would end that way. She was never meant to die in her sleep, to pass at an old age after a happy life.

Natasha had never been a child who longed for the perfect life. She was not one of those girls who planned every detail of their lives before they had even hit puberty, dreaming of the ideal wedding, with the intention of finding Prince Charming. Natasha had never hoped to be happy, or to have love, or even to be content with herself. From the very beginning she had felt eternal torment and she knew it was never going to leave her. Wherever she went next, she would be bringing that agony with her.

She couldn't focus her vision well at all and she had given up trying, letting her eyelids rest half way between open and closed, with no real effort being put into staying awake. She was aware of being cold, of pain across her abdomen and in her mind. A fire spread across her entire body and she could do nothing but accept the pain, knowing it was going to come whether she liked it or not. She slid in and out of consciousness, hardly able to understand her surroundings, at one point she was aware of shouting and banging, swearing and possibly gunfire, but it hardly registered and she just assumed it was yet another hallucination.

She noticed a pair of matching blue crystals dancing in front of her eyes. She blinked with confusion and the crystals swam around before taking a solid position and forming eyes of the most stunning blue. She felt warmth on her cheeks and heard her name being shouted from what seemed like such a vast distance away.

"Steve?" Natasha croaked out, trying her hardest to focus on the figure kneeling in front of her. He said nothing, just stared at her and she didn't bother to fight the tears that brimmed across her eyes, blurring her vision even further.

"I'm so sorry…" She mumbled, not even sure if she was speaking coherently, almost certain that her words were unintelligible. "I'm so sorry that you had to die. I'm sorry, It's all my fault…" She trailed off, she was too tired to speak anymore and she let her head droop to the side as the darkness returned yet again. She gazed into those blue eyes for as long as she could, thankful that her mind had at least created an illusion so that she would not be alone when the end finally came.

* * *

Steve burst through the door of the room as Clint busied himself with the men charging down the hall. He didn't expect to find her there, it seemed like a room that was part of the building just to fill up space, off to the side and forgotten about. But he saw her instantly, in the centre, tied to a chair in what was obviously a painful position. Her head was drooped forward and for a terrifying moment, Steve thought she was dead.

He took a tentative step forward and noticed all the water that was spilled across the floor and dripping freely from her hair which was matted and filthy, greasy looking after so many days of not being washed. It sickened him to see her in so little clothing, as though she was a prisoner that had not been deemed important enough to even dress. His shield dropped to the side and he slid forward on his knees, gingerly cupping her cheeks to lift her head up.

She couldn't focus on him, that much was plainly obvious at first and he had to yell her name which made an impact after a short while. She was a mess, blood caking over her lips after it had run from her nose, her face was gaunt and pale, dark shadows under her eyes. She had not eaten in a long time and from the sound of her voice when she spoke, Steve could tell that she was dangerously dehydrated.

He brushed her thick curls back from her forehead and saw the electrode tabs that had been partially hidden, angrily tearing them off and tossing them to the side. There was red marks on the skin where the electrical current had pulsed through her, no doubt putting her in a state of agony.

"It's going to be okay Natasha." Steve said calmly, though his voice was shaking with rage. It was clear she couldn't hear him, she was trying to apologize for some insane reason and he almost gasped in shock when he saw the tears that leaked from her eyes.

He never thought he would see Natasha cry and certainly not for him, but he understood that was what was happening right in front of him.

"Hey! None of that!" He tried to say pointlessly, as she was already closing her eyes, though it was obvious she was struggling to stay awake. Just before her body eased it's tension, her lips parted ever so slightly and the quietest whisper came out in her last breath.

"Thank you for being here."

Steve froze in a panic as her body stilled for a moment and then gave a lasting few jerks, before slumping entirely. For a second he did not move, his shock was too great and he simply stared at her lips, willing them open again so she could proclaim that she was alright. Her chest was unmoving, lacking both breathing and heart rate, finally sending Steve into action.

He wasn't gentle as he tore the bonds away from her ankles and may have injured her wrists as he freed them too, draping her across the ground and kneeling beside her. She was so cold and it terrified him, but a small part of his mind saw the logic and reminded him that she had been drenched in icy water so that in itself was not something to panic about.

"Come on Natasha, don't you dare do this to me." He grunted as he positioned his hands over her chest and began to pump with jerking motions. After the allotted time her reached up to her jaw and gently separated her lips to deliver a powerful breath into her lungs.

Still no heart beat.

"Come on!" Steve continued with the pumping, desperation ensuring that he could not be gentle and he was well aware of cracking a rib, but that didn't stop him. He heard movement behind him but he didn't bother turning, if it was an enemy trying to kill him, then they would just have to wait until he saved Natasha.

Clint knelt on the other side of Natasha and Steve could see the panic on his face as he realized his partner was not breathing.

"Natasha!" Clint tried to shake her shoulders but Steve pushed him back with one hand.

"Barton get out of it!" He growled before resuming the CPR and giving her another breath. He placed his ear to her chest and his whole body stiffened as he heard a feeble rhythm start up. His breath left him in a rush and she slid his hands under Natasha, pulling her against his chest as he quickly stood and turned to Clint.

"Clear a path for me."

Clint looked as though he wanted to argue, he wanted to be the one that got Natasha away from the hell she had been kept in, but if there was one other person he trusted the task to –it was Steve. He nodded and gave Natasha's hand a quick squeeze before turning and sprinting from the room.

* * *

Bruce was an anxious mess as he paced the medical bay, his hands wringing in front of him and his eyes darting to the clock every few seconds. He'd been in one of the engineering labs with Tony when the call came through that Natasha had been found. Apparently there had not been enough time to relay what kind of state she was in, which was a bad sign considering Clint and Steve were obviously in one hell of a rush.

"Doctor can I get you a drink or anything?" One of his assistant nurses asked, well aware of his tension and what it meant when things got tense for Bruce.

"No I'm fine thank you-" He turned as a huge commotion sounded in the corridors and Steve kicked open the door to the room, carrying an unconscious Natasha in his arms. Bruce stared in shock for just a second, it was an exceptional sight, to see her so broken and defeated.

"On the bed." He snapped his fingers toward the bed that had been prepped for her and Steve complied, setting her down with a gentleness that wouldn't be expected from his muscular form. The two nurses rushed forward and started to examine her as Bruce noticed the blood running down Steve's arm. "You've re opened your wound." He said, indicating that he needed to be attended to as well. But he shook his head, looking anxious.

"Just focus on her! Focus on Natasha!" He exclaimed, pushing one of the nurses away as they tried to help him. The sound of steady beeping filled the room as Natasha was hooked up to a heart monitor and Bruce rushed over, looking for the more serious injuries. Steve moved by her head, one hand gently tucking a fiery curl behind her ear. Her breathing seemed weak, but at least it had grown stronger since her heart had stopped.

"You'll be okay Natasha." He whispered softly, unaware of the way Bruce was giving him a curious look. "I know you. You are a fighter. You are the toughest person I know. Serum or no serum, you could easily kick my ass."

Her heart thumped weakly, breaking from the steady pace and the room held a collective breath until it had regained the rhythm.

"Get the tube." Bruce commanded and Steve was forced to move back as a breathing apparatus was attached to Natasha's face in the hope that it could assist her breathing. "Steve I need you to get out of here, you're only in the way." Bruce lay a gentle hand on Steve's uninjured shoulder, but to the doctor's surprise, Steve smacked it away.

"I'm not leaving her!" He hissed fiercely, "Do not ask me again!" He glared at Bruce as though daring him to push the matter.

"Alright fine, but stay out of the way!" Bruce exclaimed with a warning tone. He watched as Steve moved back to Natasha's side and gently took her hand.

"Come on Natasha." Steve whispered, looking down at her with a soft expression. He ran a thumb over her fingers, watching the subtle rise and fall of her chest as the others moved around him to continue giving her aid. "I need you to be okay Natasha. Please…"


	7. Comfort

The bright lights of the medical ward were torturous to Natasha's eyes, every time she gathered the energy to open her eyelids, she was attacked by the strong illumination. She couldn't move, couldn't do anything except stare at the ceiling for a long time, her body was far too weak and felt like concrete. There was no pain, just a delicious numbness that both calmed and terrified her. She tried to swallow, but it was slow and difficult, there was something unsavoury in her throat that prevented her from completing the action properly. After a minute she was able to turn her head to the side and noted a slumped figure in a chair beside her.

It was clear that he was asleep, but his face looked far too strained for it to suggest he was under any kind of peaceful rest. His breathing was heightened and uneven, there was a slight sheen of sweat across his forehead and his fists were balled so hard that they had gone white. Natasha tried to speak but with the tube down her throat it was physically impossible and she was forced to give up. Experimentally, she tried to move her hands and though they felt so heavy, she was able to lift them to her face.

She grimaced and tilted her head back, slowly pulling out the tube in a horribly invasive motion, managing to avoid gagging until it had passed her lips. Only then did she allow her body to convulse into a painfully strong coughing fit that caused her eyes to water. The figure beside her awoke at the noise and stood up defensively, as though ready to fend off a violent attacker.

"Steve.." Natasha coughed weakly, waving her hand to try and calm him down. He glanced around the room, his chest heaving as he tried to catch his breath after what she assumed was a nightmare and she saw his eyes darting in all directions as he checked for danger.

"It's…. Okay.." She managed to mutter, waiting for him to realize nothing was wrong. He slowly sunk back into the chair, not saying a word as his blue eyes dropped back to her and the fighting expression reverted to instant sadness. "I don't… Understand." She started to cough again, her body disagreeing with her will to speak. Steve quickly moved forward and held out his hands to indicate she should refrain from talking.

"Hey, take it easy." He whispered softly, his voice strained. "You're going to be weak for awhile. Just, relax."

Natasha could have laughed if she had the energy, it wasn't often that people ever told her to relax considering those who knew her, understood it wasn't quite a word that was found in her vocabulary.

"What happened?" She asked, her throat moving in a painfully rasping way as she denied his suggestions. "How did I…" She blinked in confusion, her mind was a foggy mess that told her she had been given anaesthesia at some point, but the last thing she could remember was being under a rather vibrant interrogation. "Captain-"

"Oh for crying out loud Natasha!" She was stunned by his sudden reaction, his calm demeanour was gone and he was standing above her with an obviously frustrated expression. "After everything, all of that, you are still going to call me by rank?"

Natasha's eyes were wide as she watched him, confused and unsure of what to do or say. It didn't help that she could barely talk, let alone actually move so she had no option but to lie there listen to him.

"It's fine to call me Steve when you are cut up and bleeding in my arms, or when your heart is stopping and you are about to die. But the moment you realize you are alright you go back to blocking the world out and refusing to acknowledge the softer side of you? Well I've seen the humanity within you Natasha! You can't hide it from me anymore! I know it's in there whether you like it or not!"

As far as being welcomed back from the dead, this wasn't how Natasha would have assumed it to go. Truthfully she would have expected cheap flowers and generic chocolates by her bedside, maybe Clint sitting watch until she had awoken from what she knew was probably a medically induced coma. Not to be yelled at by the nicest man she knew. It was like being punished for getting injured and she had no idea how to react, which was essentially a first for her.

Before she could really consider her options, Steve faltered and dropped back into the chair, leaning forward with his head in his hands.

"I'm sorry." His voice came out muffled from under his palms and Natasha could hear the regret and sadness in his tone. "I'm sorry Natasha.. I just… God, I thought I had lost you…"

Even while injured and barely aware of her surroundings, Natasha still had her skills at reading people and it was clear that Steve was close to breaking. Not in a 'break down and cry' sort of way, more in a 'it's all too much' kind of way. She noted that he didn't say '_we_ had lost you', but '_I_ had lost you.' He was taking it personally, the whole situation had hit him emotionally and not in just in a professional way. She swallowed thickly and tried to speak, failing due to the effort required and her lack of words to express.

Steve took a shuddering breath, his shoulders slumping for a moment before he set them straight and removed his hands so he could look at her. There was a shocking pain in his eyes, the usual wisdom and depth had been replaced with agony and Natasha knew it was her fault. This man, who had already been to hell and back, had gone through it again because of her. She was unaware of the tear rolling down the side of her face, until Steve reached out and gently wiped it away with his thumb.

"It's going to be okay Natasha." He whispered softly, his voice nothing but gentle.

"You have more… mood swings than Banner." She murmured weakly, trying to give him a smile. She wasn't sure if she succeeded herself, but she noticed the corner of his lips twitching, though it was obvious he was trying to keep a straight face.

The sound of somebody clearing their throat came from the doorway and Natasha lifted her head to see Bruce standing across the room. It was unclear how long he had been there and his face was nothing but professional, giving no indication of how much he had seen of the other two since Natasha awoke.

"How are you feeling?" Bruce asked and Natasha tried to speak, only coughing feebly in response. "Well you are alive and that is what counts." He walked forward and stood beside Steve who moved back in the chair so Bruce could examine her. "No doubt you'll be having headaches for awhile." He touched her temples gently and Natasha winced, suddenly noticing a pain she hadn't even been aware of. "You have electrical burns." He informed her as she voiced a question with her eyes.

She tilted her head back and took a deep breath, her mind trying to recall all that had happened to her. She was hit with a vast range of images that didn't appear to be in any kind of logical order, merely filling her mind in a rush. She remembered breaking into Steve's house and her shock to find him there. She remembered feeling safe when she saw him even though that all went away as they were attacked again. She remembered accepting death and welcoming the illusion of his presence, only it would appear that he had been there for real, he had come to save her.

* * *

"Can I have a word?" Bruce had completed his examination of her injuries and despite her protests, he had given Natasha a mild sedative to give her a light sleep. He knew she would hate it and no doubt her mind would infect her with serious nightmares, but the fact remained that her body needed to regain its energy and she couldn't be trusted to stay calm while she was awake. He would probably pay for it at a later date but for the moment only her health and recovery mattered.

He motioned Steve over to the side of the room, even though the patient was asleep he would not have been surprised if Natasha could still hear them, he had learnt never to underestimate her.

"How is she doing?" Steve asked quietly, folding his muscular arms across his chest and glancing back at Natasha. She looked so peaceful, even with her cuts and bruises he wasn't sure he had ever seen her face so relaxed. It pained him to realize that she was only ever so calm when she had to be forcibly put unconscious.

"She'll be okay." Bruce assured him, "But ah, she needs to be taken off duty for awhile."

"Obviously." Steve frowned, "There is no way in hell she can just launch back into action. She's determined but she will see reason."

"Are you sure?" Bruce asked with a raised eyebrow as he too looked over at her, though his eyes moved to the heart monitor and checked the rhythm of the beeping. It was steady and certainly within the safe zone, as luck would have it.

"Not really." Steve admitted, turning back to Bruce. "Revenge is probably high on her list. What's that old saying? Hell hath no fury like a woman scorned? Triple the danger threat from Natasha on a normal day and that's probably how violent she is about to turn."

Bruce nodded, she may have been sedated but even while unconscious she was already planning and scheming. "I suppose it falls to you then. To keep her in check and out of danger."

Steve raised an eyebrow, his arms folding tighter so his muscles became more prominent. "Something specific you are trying to say Doc?" He asked with a light warning tone as if to say Bruce needed to watch what he was saying very carefully. Bruce gave a one sided shrug and ran a hand through his hair.

"I would suggest that you do not let Barton see you looking at her like that." Bruce said quietly, each word filled with heavy meaning and insinuation. Steve narrowed his eyes at the doctor who was unthreatened and seemed to stand by his comment.

"Like what?" Steve asked pointedly. Bruce was about to answer when Steve's name was spoken from across the room.

"Steve…" Natasha's voice was incredibly weak and soft, full of fear and pleading. Steve was at her side in an instant, his hand cupping her cheek to try and determine if she was in any kind of pain. He blinked in surprise when he realized she was still asleep and had spoken his name unconsciously. Her face was pale and strained, her lips pressed tightly together.

"Shhh, it's okay." He whispered, gently stroking her head. She seemed to calm at his touch, relaxing slightly to be under a peaceful sleep once more.

"For the record, that's what I mean." Bruce said quietly as he moved beside Steve. "Like she is a broken soul under your protection."

Steve sighed and turned to Bruce, reluctantly moving his hand away from Natasha. "She is the furthest thing from a broken soul." He said almost defensively. She was the strongest person he knew.

"But she _is_ in need of your protection." Bruce said, his eyes boring into Steve's. "That sedative won't last long, her body has had too much training against such things. I need to see to a couple of things, if you are going to stay with her, will you let me know when she wakes?" Steve nodded, taking a seat back down beside the bed after scooting it closer. Bruce turned to leave, pausing to glance back when he reached the door and noted the way Steve reached forward to hold Natasha's hand. It was so small compared to his, but seemed to fit so perfectly within his grip.

* * *

"_It's all your fault."_

"_You killed him."_

"_He was trying to save you."_

"_He is dead because of you."_

"_All your fault. All of it."_

"_No!" Natasha closed her hands over her ears and tried to block the voices out from infecting her mind. Her team was gathered around her, yelling and screaming as they taunted her and preyed on her agony. _

"_He's dead because of you!" Tony shouted, jabbing her in the shoulder, sending her off balance so she fell to the floor. Her body was too injured to try and stand up so she just lay there as Bruce knelt beside her and growled low in his throat, his eyes flashing green._

"_Dead!" Clint screamed, kicking her in the ribs, "Because of you! Our Captain! It should have been you! You should have died, not him!"_

"_I know!" Natasha cried out, trying to cover her head with her arms. Faceless agents moved around her, circling her with malice in their expressions and death in their eyes._

"_He was an inspiration. A leader." They chanted in unison, dozens of them moving forward slowly. In perfect synchronization they unclipped their holsters and removed their side arms, lifting them to point at her head."You deserve to die, not him."_

"_I'm sorry!" Natasha yelled as the triggers were squeezed and the bullets slammed into her body with fatal force._

She yelled a stream of unintelligible words and sat bolt upright, gasping and cringing as pain flared across her body from the sudden movement that had been a terrible idea. Hands grabbed her shoulders and tried to push her back down onto the bed but she fought them even with her injuries. They were far too strong and she was quickly pushed down, her name being repeated until she focused on the figure above her.

"Steve?" She croaked out, gasping for breath as she began to hyperventilate. She winced as she felt her heart racing so fast it was almost painful, trying to ease the panic attack before it fully took hold.

"Calm down," Steve said gently, his warm hand cupping her cheek to keep her gaze on him. "Hey, Natasha look at me, just stay calm, it's going to be okay."

"You're alive." She whispered, stating a blindingly obvious fact that he didn't berate her for. "Oh God, if Bruce tries to knock me out again, I'm going to return the favour." She moaned and placed a hand to her forehead, sweeping her fringe back from her face. "How long was I out that time?"

Steve glanced up at the clock, chewing on his lip for a moment. "About two hours." He informed her, "Impressive, Bruce said it should last for about six. He told me you would wake sooner though." He removed his hand from her cheek and placed them on his lap, watching her intently. She raised an eyebrow and he shook his head in a bewildered sort of way. "Sorry, it's just… you are healing remarkably fast. It seems impossible. Even for someone like you."

"RedRoom." Natasha said quietly and wasn't surprised in the slightest at the quizzical look on Steve's face, she hadn't exactly just delivered an in dept explanation. "It's where I was trained. They uh… they gave us some ways to accelerate healing." Steve's eyes widened and he leaned forward a little.

"Serums?" He asked quietly, his voice barely above a whisper.

"Nothing like yours." She assured him, "Nothing at all like yours. Just some tweaking that provided useful skills for people like me. For assassin's."

"Like accelerated healing." Steve muttered, glancing down at his hands.

Natasha didn't say anything, starting to try to move her body into a sitting position. She ignored Steve as he tried to stop her, giving him a look that warned him he was barking up the wrong tree if he tried to fight against her.

"You need to take it easy." He reasoned but she was having none of that.

"You said it yourself, I'm healing well." She leaned her back against the wall and smiled weakly. "You didn't think I was going to be a compliant patient did you?"

To her surprise he gave her a warm smile that she had not seen from him in a very long time. "Not for a second." He answered, adding in a wink.


	8. Hunger

**Okay so I suck for taking so long to update. By way of apology I have made this one longer than I normally would have and included what I guess you are all waiting for –Warning for smut. **

* * *

Natasha lived up the expectations of her recovery and became a patient that infuriated the doctors to no end. Nobody was surprised, they were aware that she was going to want out of the ward as soon as possible so that she could get revenge. Every day she launched into the argument about her release and it was stressing the medical professionals to know that a deadly assassin was getting fed up with their presence.

Steve visited as often as he could, but most of the time she was actually asleep and he didn't dare wake her, simply sat by her bed and flicked through magazines until he started to nod off himself. Only then would he haul himself from the uncomfortable chair and leave her alone once again, accepting the knowledge that he needed to rest himself.

It was a week before she was allowed to be discharged and even then, the doctors were hesitant, wanting to keep her in longer for some more comprehensive psyche exams. She passed all the standard tests but no one expected any different, she was a master of deception and she could fool a psychiatrist as easily as she could fool a lie detector. She had to speak directly to Fury to get herself out of the ward and she had to accept the order of staying off missions. She was not happy about that in the slightest but Fury had given her two options. No missions, or more hospital time.

She hated the fuss that was caused over her and so with reluctance she promised to lay low and try to recuperate fully, even though she personally felt as though she was ready for anything. She had asked to be kept in the loop regarding all missions that related to her captors, but after a seriously in-depth debriefing, Fury had denied her request. He was concerned that she would make a vigilante run and she had refused to promise that she wouldn't do anything of the sort. After a few days of being free of medical areas, she was allowed to leave the base but she knew could not go back to her flat.

It's location had been compromised and it was a complete no-go. She could have stayed on base and used her quarters but after being cooped up there for so long with no involvement in her work, it was a place that was starting to grind on her nerves. There had been an offer for her to stay in a hotel, SHIELD funded of course and truthfully she had considered it. After everything that had happened it would have been nice to take a small break and finally get some rest and peace of mind, at the expense of an organization that she was still taking bullets for. But she had never likes hotels, they made her anxious and her instincts were always on edge, expecting danger to leap out of the bathroom cabinet. More often than not, she was usually right so her view held solid reasoning.

It was actually Steve that came to her rescue about lodging problems, casually offering for her to stay at his new flat. It only reminded her that she had been the cause of him having to move once again, unintentionally bringing a horde of angry villains to gun down his revamped flat. It was partly out of guilt that she accepted the offer, feeling as though she owed him for the damage to a place that was being fixed up and also for the bullet he had taken during the incident. A smaller part of her, one she was denying for the moment, was telling her that she accepted because she knew she would feel safe around her Captain.

When she arrived at Steve's new flat she immediately decided that she did not like it. The house was smaller than the last though that in itself was not an issue for her. She was not a primadonna girl that needed to dwell in luxury, she'd slept in shacks and run down areas on plenty of missions, most of the time it was in a pool of her own blood. Her main issue with the place was its location, in the middle of a busy street that appeared to be a neighbourhood heavy with involvement in each other's lives. She knew he was a people person but she was definitely someone who liked her privacy. Not in the least because people were generally wary of her and for good reason.

She slung her bag over her shoulder and started down the front path, trying to ignore the shouting of the children playing soccer just down the road. The door opened just as she was coming up the steps to the porch and Steve walked out, stopping in surprise when he saw her.

"I thought you weren't coming till four?" He asked. Natasha looked down to her watch and just held it up so he could see that it was exactly four o'clock in the afternoon. Steve laughed and rubbed the back of his neck a little awkwardly, reaching forward to take her bag before she could protest. "Guess I lost track of time." He admitted, shouldering the bag and ignoring the grab she made for it. She smirked a little, his chivalry always came as a surprise to her.

"I thought soldiers were supposed to have natural instincts when it came to the passage of time?" She was teasing, but he didn't even seem to notice the tone of her voice as he beckoned for her to follow him into the house. She was glad to get out of the sun, after being stuck in the base with bright artificial lighting, the heat and strength of the afternoon rays were uncomfortable.

"I was out back, time flies when you're working hard." He told her, squaring his shoulders as if defending himself. "Anyway, this is the guest room. It's really not much but-"

"It's bigger than my room at the base." She said with a genuine smile, but he was walking into the room to drop her bag on the bed and didn't see it. Which was just as well, she didn't need people to think she was going soft. She glanced around, admittedly liking the room he offered her and rethinking her initial judgement toward the house in general. "What were you doing out the back?" She asked by way of making conversation.

She turned back to see him grinning at her. "Come and see." He said a little cryptically and she nodded, following him through the lounge and out the back door. The yard was bigger than she would have pictured for the house and was covered in various building material, a large pile of planks sat to the side and she could see a half finished shed being constructed against the back fence. But Steve led her to the side where a shell of a large motorcycle sat atop a blue tarp, surrounded by pieces that were evidently being set out to be built into it.

"This is what you were doing?" She asked, picking up a small part that she had no knowledge of. "Building a motorbike?"

"Pretty much from scratch." He told her, placing his hands on his hips and surveying the scene with obvious pride. Natasha raised her eyebrow at him, he may have been a supersoldier infused with enough serum to label him a superhero, but he was still a man when it came down to the basic things.

"Impressive." She murmured, placing the small part back on the tarp and pushing her hair behind her ear. "What are the odds it will actually work when it's finished?" She was teasing again but this time he picked up on it and grinned at her.

"It'll work." He assured her and his smile suddenly widened, almost causing her to shy away. It was the kind of look someone had when the person they were staring at had something on their face. She clicked and looked down at her hands, noticing the residual oil that had smeared off from the part she had put down and then touched her face.

"There's oil on my face, isn't there?" She sighed in exasperation. Steve grabbed a rag off the tarp and found a clean spot, stepping over to wipe the black smudge off her cheek. He was laughing at the situation even as she glared at him, tight lipped.

"It's not coming off." He chuckled, finding it all hilarious despite her more solemn demeanour.

"I was going to have a shower anyway." She sighed, stepping back and wiping her hands on her shirt, not bothered that the material would be stained.

"I'll have to show you how to work the shower." Steve said, dropping the rag back down and wiping his own hands on the side of his pants. "The adjustment is one of those horribly annoying ones, turn it too far either way and you're either on a glacier or a volcano."

* * *

Steve instructed her on how to correctly work the temperamental shower and then left her to it, moving back outside to continue his work on the bike. He knew he should be unpacking the rest of his things, boxes still littered the lounge and kitchen but he could not be bothered and the task seemed so boring. He enjoyed working on the bike, to create something of his own and something that he understood well. Apart from the motors and the general look, not much had changed since his earlier time and he had been quick to learn the differences.

He tried to focus on the polishing he was doing, rather than the mental image of a naked Natasha just inside his house. He wondered if it had been a bad idea to offer for her to stay, if anything went wrong and he was unprofessional in anyway then it could ruin any chance of friendship they had. He had never even expected her to accept, he imagined she would be staying with Clint since her own flat could not be returned to. But Clint was hard at work, trying to track down the people that had taken her in the first place. After they returned to the facility that she had been kept in, they had found nothing but the bodies caused by their grand entrance and exit. Those within had packed up and left, leaving no trace that could be used to find them.

It infuriated Steve, to know Natasha's torturers were still out there and possibly scheming to capture her once again. Perhaps it was this reason that he offered his place to her, needing to keep a personal watch on her to convince himself she was safe.

It would have taken him no time at all to rapidly assemble the bike but he handled each individual part with loving care, polishing it thoroughly and then piecing it to another. It was slow going but he was proud of his work and he knew it would be better in the long run, when he could be satisfied with the finished product.

He lost track of time once again and only started to pay attention to his other surroundings when he noted the lighting from the sun had drastically altered its coloring. He stood and stretched his arms, glancing up at the red and gold streaks that were spreading across the sky, certainly feeling as though he had completed a good days work. He moseyed inside and was surprised to hear sounds coming from the kitchen. He hadn't forgotten about his guest, but he had assumed that she would have been sleeping during the time he had not seen her.

He moved silently to the kitchen doorway and saw her standing by the bench, stretching up to try and reach something from the top cupboard. He wanted to laugh at the sight, one of the most capable assassins that he had ever met, struggling against a height disadvantage. Instead of making fun of her, which was never a safe option, he stepped forward and gently eased her to the side, reaching up to grab the drainer, which was what he assumed she was aiming for.

"Thanks." She said, blowing a piece of her hair from in front of her eyes. "I was two seconds before shooting the damn thing down." Steve smiled and placed the drainer in her waiting hands, reaching back up to knock the cupboard door shut.

"I see you got that oil off." He remarked, moving out of the way as she pulled a pot of pasta from the stove top and tipped it into the drainer, sending steam billowing into the air.

"Had to use the same soap that I get blood off with." She told him, her face was turned away so he couldn't tell whether she was joking or not. He shrugged to himself and decided it could have gone either way. "Sorry about sort of helping myself around the kitchen, I figured you would be hungry."

"You cooked for me?" Steve asked with genuine surprise.

"And me, don't think you are so special." She turned and poured a bottle of sauce though the pasta, giving it a stir. "You don't actually have any meat in the house, so no steaks I'm afraid."

"I've been living on takeout." Steve admitted with a nonplussed shrug. It wasn't exactly like the amount of fat in the foods had any effect on him, his arteries would remain forever cholesterol free. "Bad habit, but good food." He watched her with curiosity, it had been a long time since anybody cooked for him and he was pleased. Even if there was no sentimentality behind the action, as in she merely did it because she was hungry too, it was still a side of Natasha that not many people saw.

He gladly accepted the plate as she slid it across the counter to him and looked around for the cutlery box. "Oh, I _knew_ I should have put all these away." He murmured, moving aside random boxes to try and find the right one. He made a grab for one of the top ones as he accidently knocked it off but was too far away. He simply watched as it fell to the side and crashed to the ground with a loud racket, metal utensils spilling across the linoleum.

"Found the forks." He chuckled and glanced up at Natasha, dropping his smile immediately. She was standing at the bench, her hands gripping the edge tight enough to whiten her knuckles as she stared with wide eyes at the cutlery across the floor.

Steve crossed the kitchen in an instant, almost leaping over the island bar in an effort to get to her quickly. "Hey, hey look at me!" He commanded, natural authority creeping into his voice as he took her jaw and tilted it toward him. He locked her gaze and saw the panic in her eyes, understanding that the noise of the cutlery cascading had given her one hell of a fright. It was a shock for him to see such a mood change with her, from friendly and casual to suddenly scared.

"Natasha, everything is okay, take a deep breath." He watched her obey his order and saw the general calm return to her eyes, her face relaxing once again. Her eyes flicked away to reaffirm that there was no danger in the room, that it was just her shell shocked mind that was taunting her. Steve knew that feeling all too well.

"God you are beautiful." He murmured and almost flinched when her eyes flicked back to him. He hadn't even meant to say it out loud, he was just focusing too much on the soft feeling of her skin against his palm and the stunning color of her eyes. He realized that he had been audible with his thoughts and knew the situation was about to take a serious turn for the worse, choosing to make a move that could be considered his biggest moment of stupidity. He tightened his hold on her jaw and angled it slightly higher as her pressed his lips to hers, the back of his mind waiting for a solid kick to the jewels.

Her lips were as soft as he imagined and he wanted to sigh into them but when he felt her kissing him back he was shocked beyond belief. His eyes snapped open to see hers had closed, a look of pure relaxation crossing her face. When he felt her hands splay across his chest, he knew there was no hope to keep any of the composure that he had been holding onto so tightly.

The kiss deepened in an instant and his other hand snaked to her back, holding her body against his as he slid his tongue through her silken lips. He groaned as her hands came up to the back of his neck, her nails pressing lightly into his skin, keeping him locking into the kiss. He pushed her back against the bench and her gasp sent all sorts of shivers down his spine as he moved his lips to her neck, able to feel her racing pulse and her quickened breathing.

He felt her tense but did not stop his devouring of her neck, breathing in her delicate scent as though he needed it to continue living. "Steve- I-" She was trying to speak but he pressed his lips to hers again, his huger for her was too great.

"Tell me to stop." He growled, swinging her around and almost slamming her into the wall, quickly pressing his body against her to keep her pinned. "Tell me to stop and I will. Say the word and this ends." He moved to her neck again, feeling as though his skin was on fire and she would be the only thing possible to douse the insatiable flames.

When he heard no words of resistance, he pulled his mouth from her neck so he could look into her beautiful eyes. They were heavy lidded and screaming with lust, it was clear that she wanted it almost as much as he did. He smirked in an uncharacteristic way and spun her again, seating her on the edge of the table and shoving aside some boxes with enough force to send them crashing against the far wall. He heard glass smash from inside one of them but he didn't care in the slightest, all he could focus on was the feel of Natasha's legs as they wrapped tightly around him.

He groaned as his solid erection pressed against the heat of her core, he could feel it even through her jeans, which he was all too anxious to tear away. He wanted it to be smooth and gentle, he wanted to explore her body and fell every inch of it but he was so hungry for her and his desire was overwhelmingly powerful.

He moved away slightly, only so he could pull away her shirt and then tear off his own. He pulled at the back of her bra, breaking the clasp and tossing the material away, dipping his head to suck on her nipple, massaging her other breast with a hand that had been longing to feel it for a very long time. She jerked against him and let out a moan that made his hips unconsciously thrust toward her, only eliciting another delicious moan.

He couldn't stand it any longer, the sounds coming from her were confirming her need for him and he was only too happy to fulfil that need. He stepped back and she removed her legs from around him, both of them already missing the feel of each other against their inflaming sensitive areas. He knelt and grabbed the hem of her jeans, yanking them off along with her underwear. He was about stand and give her exactly what she wanted, but the scent of her was too enticing and he quickly moved between her legs, placing her hands at her ass to bring her right to the edge of the table.

The taste of her nearly blew his mind, along with the cry she gave as his lips closed over her enticing heat. His tongue slid out and lapped at her wetness, shuddering at the way she moaned in rhythm with his tongue. He tasted her greedily, holding her to him with a tight grip on her ass. He knew she was beyond words as her hands shot to either side of the table to gain a hold and she pushed herself towards him, making his cock twitch with anticipation. He slid his tongue right inside her and felt her jerk at the motion, gasping with obvious delight.

"Ste-Steeeeeve…" She moaned, shaking against his touch. He tried to continue, to keep up with the extreme pleasure that was obviously driving her wild but his cock was straining so hard that it was almost painful. He stood and licked his lips, rising to her eye level and noting how clouded her vision was with her lust. It was a stunning sight, her lips were parted as she gasped for breath, her entire body was screaming for him. He shed his pants and stepped forward, guiding his length to the entrance that was so ready for him.

The feel of her enveloping him was beyond comprehension, her wet heat was ready and yet still so tight, his size was another added feature of the serum and it was only a tiny fraction of his conscious thought that was worried about hurting her. The rest of him just wanted to fuck her until neither of them could walk.

He suddenly pushed her back down on the table, moving almost all the way out of her before slowly sliding back in. He loomed over her, his hands on either side of her head to ensure he kept as much weight off her as possible. Her face was contorted with wild pleasure, but he could see her straining to handle all of him, prompting him to be slow as he started a pace that was torturous enough for his fingers to dig into the wood of the table.

He moved his weight to one forearm and used his free hand to grip her thigh, lifting it to gain a better angle, pushing into her as hard as he dared. He watched her mouth open and closed his eyes to listen to the moan, dropping his head to her neck, gently biting along the skin.

"Faster…" She managed to gasp and Steve opened his eyes to look into hers. She knew what she wanted, that was for sure, but he did not want to break her.

"Are you sure?" He asked, his voice coming out as deep and gruff, unrecognizable, even to himself. She gave him a look that was very 'Natasha', as if to chastise him for even asking that question. His slight smirk returned and he gripped her thigh even tighter, giving a sudden thrust that caused the table to shake. He wasn't sure if it would hold them or not, but he knew the ride would be enjoyable while it lasted. He arched slightly as her hands splayed across his back and he continued his thrusting, slowly building up a pace that increased as his force did. Her cries and moans fuelled him to continue, until he could feel her reaching a limit that drew him to his own.

The way her muscles contracted around his cock was enough to pull him over the edge with her, giving some final thrusts that should have completely demolished the table that somehow remained intact underneath them. He couldn't help but collapse on top of her, simply hoping that his enhanced muscle weight would not be enough to crush her as their bodies struggled for breath in unison.

It was a while before either of them spoke, both seeming content to lie there and recuperate after the bout of anxious exercise they had just entered into. Finally Steve tried to prop himself up again, his arms shaking for a moment as he lifted his head to gaze into her eyes. The table shuddered and a cracking sounded through the air as they suddenly lurched to the side and the wood broke as suspected. Steve reflexitively grabbed Natasha as they rolled and made sure he was the one that hit the ground on his back first, keeping his arms locked around her.

He felt her shaking and for a horrifying second he thought she was crying. Shame and guilt washed through him, his mind twisting the recent memories to make him think he had forced her into it, or had been too rough for her. She may have been a competent assassin but he was far stronger than any human and he should have known that he needed to be gentle. He opened his mouth to utter a stream of apologies but she lifted her head and he saw she was laughing, not crying. The new revelation didn't make him feel any better than the first conclusion he had jumped to and once again he was hit with absurd reasoning behind her laughter.

It was tired and strained, but when he saw her eyes he understood that it was not derisive or degrading. He was experiencing the same euphoria as her, basking in the afterglow of a powerful orgasm and he chuckled with her. He moved and sat up so she was perched in his lap, gently wrapping her legs around him as he remained fully seated within her, trying to ignore the fact that he would have to pull out of her eventually.

"What is so funny?" He asked softly, wrapping a muscular arm around her back so he could keep their chests pressed together.

She calmed and smiled at him, causing Steve's heart to start racing all over again. "Bruce gave me strict instructions to refrain from partaking in this kind of activity." She told him, her smile turning into a sly one. "I jokingly told him he couldn't watch me every second of the day to ensure I complied with his orders. So he threatened to post you at my door to make sure I had no male visitors with such intentions." She laughed again and the sound was like music to Steve's ears.

"I've been listening to doctors my whole life." He murmured, nibbling at the side of her neck. "Sometimes it's more fun to completely ignore what they say and do what you want anyway." He kissed along her jaw, cupping her cheek with his other hand and pressing his lips lightly to hers. She was exactly what he wanted and he would ignore the entire world if it meant he could have her.

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**Okay, so this doesn't have to be one of those stories that leads up to the smut and then ends, if you want me to continue, I will.**


	9. Thrills

**For the record, I never actually wanted to finish the story at the last chapter, I just wanted to see if it was a case of people waiting for the smut and then being content to leave it at that. It's great to know you guys want me to continue and yes, there is still a lot more to tie up, e.g, Clint's reaction to the whole situation. Plus I'm not **_**nearly**_** done putting these two through emotional trauma.**

**Warning for smut.**

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Natasha found it completely impossible to sleep that night. She was in unfamiliar territory, a house that held far less hidden weapons than she would have been comfortable with, in a neighbourhood of strangers. She did try to get some sleep, after her second shower she slithered into bed and found herself tossing and turning for awhile, even though the bed itself was surprisingly comfortable. Steve was on her mind and it was not something she was happy with. She knew that sleeping with him was a bad idea, part of her was already starting to regret it. It was only going to make a mess of the whole situation. She was aware that Steve was not the kind of man to simply sleep with somebody and then forget it. Natasha was more than capable of that, she didn't hold much emotional connection with sex, it was just an act, a tool she used in her work.

But with Steve, she couldn't help feel as though it was more than that. She frowned at the ceiling and rolled off the bed, placing her feet silently on the floor. She checked her watch which lay on the dresser beside the bed and was not surprised to see it was past midnight, she figured she had been lying there for a couple of hours at least. Against her better judgement, she made the decision to go and talk to Steve, knowing it was cruel to wake him up at such a late hour. But she needed to sort everything out before it got any deeper and even more confusing.

She was nearly silent as she walked down the hallway, her bare feet moving slowly over the thick carpet. She expected to be following the sounds of Steve snoring, but there was no such sounds and she wondered if he was having as much trouble sleeping as she was. When she reached his door she quietly turned to the handle and pushed it open just enough to slip her head through.

"Steve?" She whispered quietly, noting the figure lying on the bed. The curtains were still open and there was a street lamp almost directly outside the window, ensuring the room was well illuminated and Natasha could tell instantly that Steve had managed to go to sleep. But she could see it was not a relaxing one, he was on his side, his entire body rigid and his face contorted with strain.

"Steve?" She repeated, a little louder. She stepped forward and moved to her knees, placing a gentle hand on his shoulder to shake him lightly. She received no response, other than a quiet groan that emitted from his throat. Whatever he was dreaming about, it obviously wasn't very pleasant.

"Come on Captain." She sighed with a hint of exasperation. "Wake up. Come on." She gave him a rough shake and was relieved when his eyes finally snapped open. But they were clouded with agony and confusion, even as he looked at her, it was clearl he couldn't really see her. He moved faster than she could have anticipated and before she even had time to react, he had her up against the wall, his elbow pressing into her throat as he glared at her with malice. She couldn't believe the raw anger that had crossed it face, it was unlike anything she had ever seen on him and it stunned her.

"Steve!" She choked out, desperately clutching at his arm to try and pull it away from her throat. "Steve, please, it's me! It's Natasha!" She could see black spots dancing on the edges of her vision as she continued to struggle. Suddenly she saw the fog in his eyes clear and he blinked in surprise as if it was a shock to see himself strangling her.

"Natasha!" He gasped and pulled his arm away immediately. She fell to the ground but he was there to grab her and helped her back up straight away. "Oh, God. I am so sorry, are you alright?" She coughed and rubbed her throat, allowing him to hold her upright as she gasped for breath.

"I'm, okay." She nodded, her voice coming out strained and shaky. She knew she had every right to be furious at him but she couldn't, he wasn't the only one that had awoken in a rage after nightmares.

"Come here." Steve said gently and led her over to the bed, urging her to sit down. She complied, still trying to even her breathing and stop her eyes from watering. "Please forgive me Natasha, you have to understand that the last thing I would _ever_ want to do, would be to hurt you." He sounded so sincere, though she didn't expect him to be any different. He wasn't a man that took pleasure in pain, she could understand how guilty he would be feeling at that particular moment.

"I know." She said, glancing up at him. She watched as he dropped to his knees in front of her, one hand reaching out to cup her jaw and tilt it up slightly. She saw a fresh wave of guilt cross his face and for some absurd reason it made her feel bad.

"It's going to bruise." He said quietly, giving her a reason for the new guilt.

"It's okay-" She started to say but he cut her off.

"It is _not_ okay!" He shouted, his fist shot to the side and slammed into the wall as his shoulders hunched forward. Natasha didn't flinch, he didn't scare her in any way, other than the level of emotion that he seemed to e feeling toward her. Emotions had never been something Natasha could control and so she hid them away, locking them in her mind. Sometimes they seeped through and it never ended well. If she allowed anybody into her heart, she was showing her weaknesses and she had never come out unscathed.

She reached forward with hesitant hands and placed them on his cheeks, forcing him to look at her. "It's okay." She repeated, with a tone that lacked softness, her eyes warning him not to cut her off again. "You were having that dream weren't you? With the gunfire and the blood. The one where you can't do anything." His eyes widened as she spoke, confusion filling them once again.

"How did you- I didn't tell anyone about that! Just the psych doctor."

It was Natasha's turn to feel guilty and she took a quick breath before answering. "I read the reports." She admitted. Her gaze dropped, unable to meet his and unwilling to see the accusation she was sure would surface. "I was worried about you and Fury wouldn't tell me squat. So I got into the reports to see how you were doing." She waited for him to get angry, to yell and tell her how much of a breach of privacy that was. But he remained silent for longer than she expected and that caused her to finally look up.

She was almost shocked to see him smirking at her. "You were worried about me?" His voice was almost cocky and she wanted to roll her eyes, it was so much like Stark that she knew the two men had spent far too much time around each other when Steve was staying at the tower. "So that means you care about me."

Natasha was definitely stunned at the blatant comment and she couldn't help but simply stare at him, no words were even coming to her lips. She dropped her hands to her knees and was shocked again as Steve's smile widened and his hand moved to the back of her neck.

"You aren't even denying it." He said quietly and pulled her in for a kiss. Every instinct screamed at her to pull away, to manoeuvre out from his grip or even attack him. He was far too strong for her to deal any permanent damage, but a well aimed punch or kick may bring him to his senses and warn him to step back. But she wanted the kiss, she wanted to feel his lips against hers again, she wanted to taste him on her tongue and her body betrayed her instincts by reaching forward and gripping his shoulders tightly.

She knew it was wrong, on so many levels. He was her Captain, he was her friend, they were going to ruin that stable relationship because she knew it could never end well. And yet she still craved the kiss and refused to pull away, allowing his tongue into her mouth and revelling in the taste. A quiet moan left her throat and she didn't know whether it was in protest or not, but he definitely took it the other way and smoothly moved her backward onto the bed, never breaking the kiss. She knew she should hate the way her body was heating up and needing him, she had come to talk and then he had attacked her, the normal reaction to such a thing was _not_ to sleep with him. But she didn't care, she wanted him and she was going to have him.

She felt his hand trail down over her breasts as his mouth moved to her neck and she arched her back, letting out a gasp as his hand plunged into her underwear and he started to rub her. She moaned his name and could feel the way that only encouraged him, she gasped again as his finger slid inside her.

"So wet…" He groaned in her ear, his breathing was hot and heavy, his weight on her was almost unmanageable but somehow added to the thrill she felt. His free hand tugged at her singlet and she quickly pulled it over her head, barely having time to undo her bra before his lips had dropped to her nipple and his tongue began to flick back and forth, causing her whole body to jerk with the pleasure.

Her hands moved to his back and she almost sighed at the feel of his toned muscles rippling under her fingers. His impatience became apparent as he simply tore the side of her underwear and pulled the material away, evidently he was not content to wait until she had taken them off. She heard his boxes rip a moment later and his lips were pressed to hers in a harsh kiss as he spread her legs and slowly pushed himself inside her. She threw her head back and moaned loudly at the feel of him entering her, her nails digging into his back.

"Steve…" She moaned, her breathing becoming ragged and her muscles starting to tingle.

"Yes, Natasha?" He moved his lips to her ear lobe and nibbled on it gently, not moving after he had pushed himself in fully. There was a calmness to his voice but it was shaking, as if he wanted to retain his composure but it was close to breaking. Natasha knew men, she could read them with absolute ease and she _knew_ that this man was barely clinging to any evolution that had brought him past primal instinct. And she knew how to bring out that primal instinct and turn it into relentless flaming desire.

She met his eyes and saw the lust that she assumed she was reflecting in her own. The upper hand of the situation was still up for grabs and they were both fighting for it, using their bodies as weapons. She opened her mouth to speak when he struck a sneak attack and gave a quick thrust that almost sent her eyes rolling into the back of her skull. When she could focus on him again she saw the smirk had returned, as though he was so proud of himself for managing to bring the moans to her throat. She moved one hand to the back of his neck and brought him in for a kiss so heated and demanding that it was almost painful.

When she finally allowed them to breathe, she could see his eyes were half lidded with desire and she knew she almost had him. She leaned up just a little and positioned her lips to the side of his ear. When she spoke her voice was sultry and smooth, compelling as if it held magic.

"Fuck me Steve…."

She felt his body tense for just moment as he digested her words, his heart beat increased dramatically and she barely had time to prepare herself before he had begun thrusting with insatiable force. She arched her back, angling her hips to allow him deeper and they both moaned as he slid impossibly further into her, brushing her spot and causing her to writhe under him. He took her wrists and held them above her head, gripping them tighter than he should have but neither of them cared. Her body was stretched out as it struggled to move with him, his pace was set at such a speed that she found it difficult to keep up.

Her moans were no longer under her control, increasing in both volume and pitch, settling at a rhythm with his thrusts which in turn seemed to be fuelled by the level of her moans.

"My name, say it." He spoke in her ear, barely able to be heard over the sounds she was making herself and she had to take a moment, swallowing to ensure her mouth was able to form words other than pleasured sounds. Apparently she took too much time to comply and he followed up with a vicious thrust that felt as if it almost broke bones. "Say it!" He ordered, his tone ruthless and increasing the thrill.

She managed to shout his name as he commanded and she felt his body spasm as it brought him over the edge, the sudden merciless thrusting from his hips and the jerking of his cock deep within her was enough to pull her over with him and she was rendered almost blind as the orgasm took hold. She didn't know whether his name passed her lips again or if it was just wordless sounds but whatever came out was loud enough to cause strain on her throat. As the golden feeling faded and she became aware of reality again, she had to keep the focus on her breathing and try to still her racing heart. Steve had collapsed fully onto her and was shaking just as bad as she was, seeming just as short of breath.

After a full minute of laying in silence, aside from the ragged breathing which came from both of them, Steve finally propped himself up on his elbows, only to kiss her softly. She gazed up at those alluring blue eyes and managed a weak smile, moving her arms back down by her sides and trying not to grimace at the strain of them. She glanced at her wrists after she noticed the aching and could see deep purple bruising beginning to form in the shape of finger marks. She purposely kept that hidden from Steve, wanting to enjoy the afterglow of such an intense orgasm without giving him something else to feel guilty for.

"Was there any particular reason that you came into my room?" He asked softly, lacing kisses along her jaw and down her neck. She swallowed as he gently pressed his teeth to her jugular which was still racing a little. He chuckled deep in his throat and the vibrating noise sent all sorts of feelings rushing through Natasha.

"I came to tell you… that this… couldn't happen again." She admitted honestly, giving no reasoning for such a decision or even pointing out that it had already in fact happened again.

"Okay." He murmured, his lips trailing up to hers once more. "You're right. No. More. Of. This." He spoke a word in between kisses and Natasha knew each one was a lie. Not that she minded at that moment. A large part of her was definitely hoping that it would happen again. And again. And again. That part was more powerful than the logical side of her, which was mostly being ignored.

She wanted to protest as he pulled out of her and lay beside her, one muscular arm draped over her chest. He pulled the blankets up and made sure she was covered as she rolled on her side to face him.

"Stay with me tonight?" He asked and she saw he had reverted back to the Steve that everybody knew. The gentleman, the gentle soul that lived to please others, rarely asking for anything in return.

"I don't think I can even walk after that." She said, half joking half serious. He let a flicker of a smirk cross his lips, obviously proud of such a statement and as she rolled away from him he slid one arm under her head and wrapped her up tightly with the other one. She was completely encased by him, his broad chest pressed against her back, his legs tangled with hers and she realized that it was the safest she had felt for a long time.

It was his presence that eased her into a deep sleep, her mind and body was tired and in need of rest.

Comforted by each other, neither of them were plagued by the usual nightmares.

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**So maybe too soon for more smut? Not sure but it was fun enough to write, hopefully it is fun enough to read. Thanks for the reviews, you guys really do make me want to keep writing more. **


	10. Vulnerability

Natasha awoke to a quiet sound, her honed instincts did not miss much and even though sleep still clung to her mind, she was able to figure out the source of such a noise was a door being shut gently, in an effort to be as silent as possible. She blinked until her vision had cleared and stretched her body in a delicious movement, feeling a wonderful release of tension from her muscles. They had been strained and achy for some time, usually she would train almost constantly when not on a mission but she had enough sense to be taking it easy after the incident. Her body seemed to be craving a violent bout of training, but her mind was insisting upon rest.

She rolled onto her back and glanced at the ceiling, resting her hands behind her head. She was in one hell of a mess and she wasn't even sure if there was a way out of it. Or if she _wanted_ to get out of it. She was such a logical person by nature, but there was nothing logical about the situation she had put herself in. Her eyelids closed as she recalled the fantastic sex of the previous day, sex that had blown her mind and complicated her situation even further, sending her into a wild spiral of confusion.

Images of Steve's perfect body continued to plague her mind until she groaned in frustrated protest and rolled onto her stomach, burying her face into the pillow. Everything was usually so cut and dry with her, black and white. No room for argument, no ideas of compromise. She did what she was told and if the orders did not come through then she made a decision based on logical conclusion. She was out of her depth, swimming in a vast ocean of unfamiliar emotions. It was horrible. And wonderful. But mostly horrible.

She should have quit while she was ahead. One time of fantastic fucking was enough. She could have walked away and accepted the inevitable awkwardness that would have occurred between her and the Captain. She could handle that. What she could _not_ handle, was the feelings rising within her, feelings that she was determined to keep down. She would blatantly ignore them if she had to. Deny them for as long as possible.

There was a faint bang from somewhere in the house, followed by a colourful curse that made Natasha smile. Everyone saw Steve as the perfect gentleman and of course as the _perfect_ soldier. But he was so much more, he was off the guided path as much as he tried to convince the world that he was keeping to the designated trails. Nobody was perfect anyway, there was a skeleton in every single closet. That was something she had learned over the years, something that she knew for absolute certain.

She let out a quiet sigh and rolled over, swiftly sitting up and pulling the blankets away. Her clothes lay to the side of the bed, forgotten after their use had been deemed unnecessary, damaged with the speed of that decision being made. A black shirt was draped over the end of the bed, clearly set out for her to wear and again, she smiled. It was plain other than the SHIELD logo in the centre. Steve had other clothing of course, so she wondered if he had chosen a SHIELD issued shirt so that she might feel a little more at ease. It wouldn't have bothered her either way, but she did appreciate the thought.

There was an option to ignore the shirt and yet she pulled it on almost as soon as she noticed it, trying not to find any significance in the action, refusing to acknowledge any sort of comparison between accepting the shirt and accepting the man.

"Just a shirt." She murmured to herself. The mere fact of needing to try and convince her own mind that there was nothing to read into, meant the very opposite. It was too large, as expected. It was warm. It was comfortable. And, it had _his_ scent.

"Jesus, I need to kill someone and fast." She muttered, running a hand through her hair as she walked toward the door and pulled it open, pausing when she noticed the smell of cooked food. She was instantly confused, it couldn't have been more than a couple of minutes since Steve had left the room but she could definitely smell bacon and eggs that were well cooked. She moved as silently as she normally did, aided by bare feet touching down on thick carpet that masked most of the noise. As she reached the kitchen she leaned around the corner and saw Steve by the stove, holding a pan in one hand and with the other hand he was stirring something in a mixing bowl.

It was so horribly domestic looking that she almost turned tail and ran. Sheer resilience kept her in place and she stepped out into full view, not wishing to be caught while sneaking a peak like a hesitant child. The shape of his genuinely amazing ass under jeans was hard to ignore along with the rippling muscles of his bare back, a sight with brought back the feel of those muscles under her hands when he had been thrusting her into sweet oblivion.

"Steve." She said quietly, unsure of what to say in an effort to let him know she was there. He turned and bestowed her with a glowing smile, one that should have made her heart melt until it was merely a puddle on the floor. There was a reason that the public loved Steve Rogers as much as it loved Captain America. He was fawned over, by nearly every male in the city and yet it was common knowledge that he was not comfortable with it. He never smiled like that in public, in fact, Natasha was sure she had never seen him smile like that period. She must have had an opposite look on her own face, judging by the way he quickly freed his hands and turned to face her fully, suddenly appearing concerned.

"Natasha, are you okay?" He seemed so genuinely worried that it was hard to bear. He cared. He cared far too much for her to handle and she half wished he wouldn't. She didn't move or speak as he crossed the distance between them and even though every brain cell screamed at her to get away from him, she could not bring herself to do it. Even when he lifted a hand to cup her jaw, his eyes swimming with more concern than she had ever been offered. "Natasha, talk to me. You look terrified."

She raised one hand to place her palm over the hand that was gently touching her and she closed her eyes for a just a moment, letting herself enjoy his presence.

"No." She said suddenly, her eyes snapping open and she took a hurried step backwards, guilt raking her heart as his concern changed to confusion. "I can't do this… I can't…" She turned, her body unfreezing from its panicked state and she quickly moved around the bench, heading to her room.

She was not meant to feel, her trainers had done their very best to ensure emotions would never be a complication. They had broken her body and spirit enough times that it had become easier just to be the hardened soul that they desired of her.

She was stunned as a hand grabbed her shoulder and spun her around just as she reached the door to the guest room. Such was her surprise that she was nearly swung off balance, a mix of her not being prepared for the motion and also the sheer strength of the man who grabbed her. Before she could fall or even stumble, he had steadied her by placing his hand at the small of her back to keep her upright.

"Natasha please!" He exclaimed, keeping a tight grip on both her shoulder and back as she tried to step to the side. When that failed she tried to step backwards, only to find that he moved with her and she was suddenly pressed against the wall, realizing there was to be no escape from him.

She opened her mouth to speak, but for once she was lost for words and should have been infuriated. She could talk her way out of every situation, her specialty was twisting words until the emotional pain for her target was agonizing. Failing that, she would deal a significant amount of physical pain. The latter option was not viable for the man who was staring at her, waiting for her to say something. She barely noticed as her heart began to race and her breathing quickened, so desperate was she to get out of her situation but to avoid dealing any sort of pain to Steve, even though he could have handled it.

"Let me go." She whispered, not trusting her voice to raise any higher without shaking.

"No." The word was a growl and probably would have intimated a vast majority of people. But Natasha felt no fear toward _him_ just everything that he doing to her mind.

"Steve-"

"Stop." She blinked at the command, it was spoken with a lack of anything gentle and he used a voice that really only came out when he was wearing the helmet and carrying the shield. When he continued, the softness had returned. "Just… Stop. Whatever you are thinking, however you are trying to reason the negatives of what is happening, ignore it. Don't speak, don't think. For once, do what you _want_ to do. Not what you have been _ordered_ to do, or feel you _have_ to do. Don't be the spy. Be yourself. Please, just once."

His eyes were locked with hers, two shimmering blue crystals that seemed impossible pure. She could not have looked away even if she wanted to, he was trapping her in that soft but yet stern gaze and when she opened her mouth to speak, he took his hand from her shoulder and pressed a gentle finger to her lips.

"I'm going to kiss you now, Natasha." He leaned in toward her as he spoke, his voice dropping in both pitch and volume. "Because I want to. Because you are an amazingly beautiful woman who deserves to be worshipped like a Goddess. That is how I see you and your perfection startles me at every turn."

"I'm not perfect." She murmured, her lips moving against his finger.

"You are to me." He told her, before removing his finger and finalising the action he had only just warned her that he would undertake. She did not hesitate to kiss him back as his lips were pressed to hers, her hands snaking up his bare chest and over his broad shoulders, resting at the back of his neck where her fingers clutched tightly.

It was wrong, so very wrong. She continued to tell herself that at every step, and yet she was still taking more and more steps.

"Steve…" She murmured, hating how vulnerable her voice sounded. He must have heard that and his arms wrapped around her, encasing her body in what was obviously meant to be a protective cocoon of masculine safety. "Steve no… I can't… I'm not…" She pulled back from the kiss, both relieved and disappointed as he allowed the action to happen and did not pursue her lips, though he did keep his arms around her.

"You're not what?" He asked, bringing one hand up to gently brush at a lock of her hair. She felt him wind the curl around his finger, his face suggesting that he was happily enjoying the action and that inside he was far calmer than she was.

"Not… strong enough. For this." She could feel her cheeks grow warm at the blatant confession of weakness and she was ultimately surprised. She did not blush. It had been whipped out of her in a literal sense, anything that could reveal true feelings or thoughts was a not allowed with deceiving assassins. Steve seemed to be overriding every barrier and lock that she had placed around her mind. He had the dam keys and she had no way of getting them back.

"I've never seen you blush before." He said softly, seeming downright enchanted by such a thing.

"Steve-" She let a little frustration into her voice and the animation gained her a little foothold, giving her a mild confidence boost along with a determination to get back onto solid ground. But his next comment took any hope of that away and very nearly left her speechless.

"You don't have to be." He was no longer distracted by her hair, or the pink tinge to her cheeks, he was looking her into her eyes and he was deadly serious.

"I- I, what?" She stammered, borderline shocked.

"You don't have to be the strong one." He clarified, his voice gaining strength as if to reinforce his point. "All your life, you have had to fight or die and a lack of strength has never been an option. You have never allowed yourself to be taken care of or be protected, even to this day you hate it when anybody else has to step in and help you , you see it as a weakness in yourself, a failure. All _my_ life, I could never help myself. I was weak. Fragile. I _needed_ to be taken care of and I didn't have the option of _choosing_ strength. I had to be protected, I could not protect others. But now I do and it is something that I live for. You do not need to be the strong one Natasha. Let me in, let me be the one who takes care of you and protects you even though you do not need protecting. _I_ can be the strong one."

Natasha was stunned by the power of his words and she was fully aware of the way his grip on her was tightening as he spoke. He was laying his heart on his sleeve, giving her everything that he had to give, knowing that there was no guarantee of a return, just a feeble hope.

"Tell me what you are thinking Natasha." Steve whispered after she was silent and still for almost a minute, her mind a swirling chaotic mess.. "Drop those walls and let me in-"

"I need you." She cut him off, her voice was barely audible, but she knew his hearing was beyond excellent. "I need you more than is safe, more that I can possible comprehend at the moment. And honestly? It fucking terrifies me." She had never been so blatantly open in explanation of her feelings with anybody else, she had always tried her dammed hardest to ensure her inner self was kept away from the world, hidden within walls that could protect her. She wanted to trust Steve, to believe that he could in fact protect her but for so long she had only been able to rely on herself, allowing another into her world was a foreign concept.

She didn't know what to expect from him but she was surprised when he leaned forward and kissed her on the cheek, his lips barely brushing her skin and lingering for a moment.

"Are you hungry?" He asked, moving back to lock eyes with her again. If she was surprised just a moment before, she was shocked as he asked the question.

"I… Uh, I… yes." She answered. He smiled, not as brightly as he had in the kitchen but it seemed to hold more emotion and to her genuine amazement, it brought out a smile on her own face. He chuckled and kissed her forehead softly. She closed her eyes to breathe in his scent, one that was already familiar to her and definitely comforting. When he moved back again she opened her eyes and continued to smile as he took her hand.

"Come on, I made breakfast. I've been up for a couple of hours, checking on you but trying not to wake you." He gave her hand a squeeze and started to lead her back into the kitchen.

"You cooked for me?" She asked, quite pleased by the concept, considering how good the food smelled.

"And me, don't think you're special." He teased, reflecting her words from the previous day. "You look hot in my shirt by the way." He added almost snidely. She grinned, yes, he had definitely spent too much time around a certain egotistical billionaire and yet the comment still brought a pink tinge to her cheeks. She was overly thankful that Steve was grabbing some plates for them and failed to notice the coloring.

* * *

**Okay so you probably all hate the complete gooeyness of this, (though I hope at least some of you don't mind it too much.) but I can't say that I am sorry for it. Natasha is strong, yes. There is no denying that, but I like to write her as vulnerable on occasion because I believe that she puts so much effort into maintaining those concrete mental walls, that she is completely different underneath. And it takes someone with supreme strength (For example a certain supersoldier with a bit of serum) to break though those walls. I like the thought that if she falls, he is there to catch her and that knowledge gives her a feeling of safety, a feeling that no one other than herself has ever been able to give her.**


	11. Can't Let You Go

**Warning for a little bit of smutty goodness.**

* * *

Natasha found it hard to eat her breakfast with Steve smiling at her from across the bench. Since they had broken the table during some rather heated activity, Steve had pulled two chairs over to the bench and seemed content to sit across from her so that he could watch her. Halfway through her meal she dropped her fork and looked up at him with pointed annoyance.

"What." She said simply, a little frustrated by the way his grin remained plastered to his face.

"You should wear my clothes more often." He told her, waggling his eyebrows in a suggestive way. The corners of her lips twitched but she made an effort to keep up the tone of annoyance in her voice.

"I don't think I would suit the Captain America outfit." She told him, picking her fork back up. "Nowhere to keep my guns." She took another bite of the food and sighed when she sensed his gaze remaining on her. It seemed after their little vulnerable moment Steve had decided he had full reign over her emotions and it made her feel uncomfortable. The fact that he had seen her so open and honest was bugging her, as if she had given over the advantage of a situation to the enemy. "Stop the staring, please."

"I can't help it, you are just too beau-"

"If you try to use a clichéd pick up line on me, so help me God I will end you." She looked up and met his smile with a hard glare.

"Is that a fact?" He narrowed his eyes playfully and stood up, almost knocking his stool backwards. Natasha sighed and refused to play along, opting for ignorance as she turned her attention back to the food and pushed some scrambled eggs around her plate. She knew she had started letting her guard down around him when he was suddenly able to launch an attack without her reflexes even picking up on it. To her shock, she was thrown over his shoulder before she could make any move to try and defend herself. Her hands scrambled to grab at the bench, only succeeding in knocking her plate onto the ground, spilling the remains of her breakfast.

"Steve! What are you- Steve! Put me down!" Her dignity was fading by the second as he laughed at her feeble attempts to free herself, including pounding her fists on his back and yielding no results. He walked quickly into the hall and took care not to crack her head on the wall as he turned into his bedroom. She was again shocked as he tossed her onto the bed with enough force to disorientate her.

"What the hell Steve-" Before she could even finish he had followed her onto the bed and was holding himself above her, giving her a quick wink before he moved his lips to press against her neck. As furious as she was for the brash way she had just been treated, his lips seemed to instantly deflate her anger and replace it with some other intense feelings.

"Hey, I tried being romantic." He whispered, his voice already dropping in pitch and sounding heavy with breath. "You wouldn't go for it. So I made a decision to change tactics. I think this is working much better." He chuckled and she realized her hands were already moving over his shoulders to feel those tense muscles. She swore silently and dropped her hands beside her, but he quickly grabbed her wrists and stretched her arms above her head. So large were his hands and so thin were her wrists, that he was able to use just one hand to pin her, the other slipping under the shirt he had given her to wear, leading him to discover just how fast he could make her wet.

She moaned, cursing herself but making no move to push him away or even resist his efforts, moving her hips against his hand and gaining a moan from his as well. The pace of his hand increased and she felt his erection grind against her thigh, straining to be free of his pants. She tried to move her arm by reflex, with the intention of freeing the muscle of his that she had already claimed to be her favourite, but he was holding her securely. She was surprised for a moment, admittedly not the first time she had been in such a position, but it was never usually that difficult to break free. Whether he knew what she had wanted, or he had wanted it too, the movement seemed to spur him into pausing his motions of rubbing her to unbutton the front of his pants.

He moved himself directly between her legs and grinded against her fully, causing her to gasp and spread her legs a little more, returning the movement with as much force and enthusiasm. "Ahhhh, Natasha…" he moaned in her ear, biting along the lobe until he had her squirming under him.

"Steve…" She gasped, her breathing quickening as she moved her hips to try and feel the fire that was igniting between their skin. "Stop… teasing… me…."

She heard him laugh and felt a moment of rage. This was the act that she excelled in, it was the tool she used in her work and the fact that he could make her lose her head was wildly infuriating. She was supposed to be in control at all times and yet it was like she was handing over the reigns.

"Stop teasing, you say?" His voice held its own taunting and she growled in pure frustration.

"Yes! Stop fucking teas- Oh! Oh my God..." She cut off into Russian curses as he suddenly moved his solid erection to her entrance and pushed inside. She lifted her hips and choked out a varied form of his name with a heavy accent, tipping her head back and snapping her jaws shut.

"That seems… better." He panted in her ear. It was clear that he was trying to retain the guise of someone in total control, but he was losing it, his body was taking over and seeking what it needed. Her hands moved to his back as he started to thrust into her, her eyes nearly rolled at the combination of the pleasure and the feel of his muscles moving under her hands. She trained her nails down to the hem of his pants and pulled them down a little more, so his fantastic ass was bare to her touch. He gave her a violent thrust as she dug her nails into his cheeks, his animalistic groan made her shiver in delight.

A noise from the doorway caused them both to look in that direction, though Natasha had no idea what she expected to see, it certainly wasn't Clint standing there with a bunch of flowers and small box of her favourite white chocolate.

"Morning Nat. Captain." Clint gave Steve a mocking nod, his eyes burning into the man like fire. Natasha didn't think she'd ever seen him so angry, not even after a psychologically damaged Norse God had turned him into his own puppet slave. His eyes moved to her and the rage seemed to lessen, but the pain grew. "Heard you were finally let off base and were staying here. Brought some congratulatory presents." He shook the gifts pointedly. "But I can see you two are busy. I'll just let myself out." He turned and walked out of sight, the sound of things being dropped was heard clearly from the hall.

"Shit." Steve whispered, releasing his hold on Natasha's wrists. The moment he had moved back enough to give her an inch of space she had rolled out from under him and manoeuvred skilfully to the edge of the bed, flying across the room and into the hall.

"Clint!" She called, chasing him as he stalked slowly toward the front door. "Clint!" She slid around him and flattened her back against the door so he couldn't open it. He was forced to stop but didn't look at her, staring at his balled fists, clenched so tightly that his knuckles were white. "Clint, please look at me." The words were gentle but they were spoken with a command as she watched his head slowly raise, his eyes settling into hers and making her want to shrink back from him.

"Move." His tone was terrifying, one that he had never used while speaking to her but one she knew he was capable of owning.

"No, absolutely not-" She was cut off as his fist slammed into the door just beside her head. She turned her head by reflex but otherwise made no movement, though she was sure her face had paled significantly. When she looked back to him, he seemed to be a mix of horrified and furious, as if shocked by what he had just done but angry enough to do it again.

"Barton, get the hell out of my house." Steve's voice was another shocking one, apparently it was a day for seeing the sides of people that didn't usually make it to the surface. Natasha looked past Clint to see Steve had buttoned his pants back up but had failed to put on a shirt. His muscles were so tense that the next level up would be Hulk-like. On any other occasion Natasha would have found it hard to tear her eyes away from such an animalistic display of strength, but there were more pressing matters.

"I'm trying, the door is blocked." Clint spat the words, as though Natasha was a pile of rubbish that was preventing him from leaving. It hurt, but she pushed those feelings aside. Steve looked as though he was about to tear Clint limb from limb and frankly Clint looked like he was about to do the same to Steve.

"Guys can we just-"

"Shut the hell up." Clint cut her off with enough malice to shock her to the core. She was so stunned that she was hardly aware of Steve pulling her to the side and opening the door for Clint to leave. It probably didn't help the situation when Steve snaked a protective arm around her, making it clear that he was trying to put a barrier of possession between her and Clint. She should have shook it away and gone after Clint as he spun around and walked down the steps, his shoulders hunched with blatant anger, but Steve's arm tightened, showing her he knew she wanted to chase him. Just as he reached the front gate he turned and gave her another pain filled look before it changed to hatred once again. He mouthed a single word, knowing how well she could lip read, before Steve slammed the door shut.

Neither of them spoke for a minute, Natasha was too shocked and hurt to do anything and she assumed Steve didn't want to ignite any kind of fire in her. She wasn't aware of when she started to lean against him, but she felt his arms fully envelop her and the possessive grip changed to a comforting one as he kissed the top of her head gently.

"What did he say?" Steve asked when he obviously felt brave enough to break the silence between them. "When he stopped at the gate, what did he say?"

Natasha didn't answer at first, part of her was still wishing she had imagined it occurring or that she had read his lips wrong. But she knew it was neither of those things. He had meant to say it and she had understood correctly, it was made worse by the knowledge that he did it to purposely hurt her. Many had called her similar things over the years and she never took any notice, she was never bothered. But to have someone like Clint say it, someone who was so close and who she trusted with her life, it felt like a harsh blow.

"He… called me a whore." She told Steve, her voice devoid of emotion as she stared blankly at the wall, but still clinging to him for comfort. Truthfully, she wasn't seeking any sort of reassurance from Steve but she fully expected it to come. She anticipated stern lectures as he tried to make her believe it was untrue but there were no further words from him. He stiffened as she spoke and slowly removed his arms from around her bringing her a wave of confusion as he stepped toward the door and yanked it open. Natasha had to rapidly step out of the way at the hinges tore from the forced motion and the door fell down where she had been standing.

"Steve?" She asked hesitantly as he moved over the front porch. She realized instantly what he was doing and she ran forward to grab his arm, trying to stop him. It was like trying to hold back a tank, each step showed no slowing and made her efforts seemed absolutely ridiculous. "Steve stop! Please! Of for crying out loud! This isn't the thirteenth century, I don't need you to defend my fucking honour!" He suddenly turned to face her and stopped so quickly that she almost fell over backwards. He swiftly gripped her waist to keep her upright but neither of them even acknowledged that motion.

"He cannot get away with calling you that." Steve growled, almost as angry as Clint had been.

"I've been called worse!" Natasha reasoned, trying to convince him that she wasn't bothered by what Clint had said, as if it hadn't cut her deeply. She could tell she was failing. "He was just angry!"

"Not fucking good enough!" Steve exclaimed, his blue eyes shining with fury. "He hurt you Natasha, I can see it all over your face!"

"I can handle it!" She almost yelled the words and he suddenly grabbed both of her shoulders, pulling her closer.

"You shouldn't have to!" He insisted. "Your _friends_ shouldn't be hurting you like that!"

The power of his eyes meant she could not pull away from his gaze, even if he had not been holding her tightly.

"Come inside." She said quietly, feeling a little guilty about calling upon her manipulation techniques to try and calm him down. "Please Steve, think this over logically. You can't kill him, you know you will never forgive yourself and if you try and attack him, you have a high chance of making the attack fatal. Just come inside, _with me_."

He voice was soothing and gentle, she could see it working as he second guessed the consequences of his intentions and then at the end suddenly decided that he would rather be _with _Natasha, than out somewhere defending her. He nodded and led her back into the house, sheepishly picking the door back up and pushing it back into place. He placed his hands on a twisted hinge and bent the metal back into a close shape to what it was originally.

"There's a hammer and nails in an open box in the kitchen, mind getting them for me?" He asked as he moved onto the other hinges. She nodded even though he had his back to her and couldn't see the action, before hurrying to the kitchen to complete his request. As she came back she half expected him to be gone, chasing after Clint like a rabid wolf but he was still there. He took the items without a word and lifted the hammer to smack the nail into place. When he hit, it didn't appear as though he used much force, but it was enough to splinter the entire frame and cripple the nail. As Natasha took the hammer from him, she noticed deep finger impressions on the metal handle.

"Let me do it." She said gently and was admittedly surprised as he stepped away, allowing her to nail the hinges back into place. When she was finished he opened the door and found the motion to be stiff, but at least it was working.

"I'm sorry." He said as she turned back to him.

"For what? Pulling out the 1940's chivalry?" She was slightly teasing, to try and cheer him up.

"For coming between you and Clint." He said and stepped toward her, wrapping his arms around her to pull her against him. "I knew he would take it badly and I still went for it. Even now I can't let you go." Natasha closed her eyes and kissed his neck softly, feeling his steady heart beat. He appeared to be so strong, but he had his weaknesses, he had his flaws, just like everybody else.

* * *

**Ah, so there you go, a little more smut and a little more angst, along with a little more fluff. Hopefully that was enough of a mix to satisfy most of you.**


	12. From Terrible, To Fantastic

It was one hell of an uncomfortable silence that fell between Natasha and Steve as they sat down at the kitchen bench. Natasha had cleaned up the mess from when her breakfast spilled when Steve had showed his impatient need to have her earlier, having to protest as he insisted he should be with one to clean it up. He felt responsible for everything, for all of it and he felt incredibly guilty at the way her face had fallen after Clint's dramatic reaction. Clint may have been the one that actually hurt her, but Steve still felt as though it was personally his fault.

He reached across the bench and placed a hand over hers but she smoothly pulled it away and put both of her hands under the bench on her lap. Steve pretended the action didn't sting, he understood she was going through a wild ride of emotions and he had figured out that she wasn't good at dealing with such things. He didn't speak for a few more moments after that, it was hard to decide what to say, which direction to take.

"Did you know?" he asked eventually, at least managing to raise her eyes to his with the question. She didn't seem confused by his vague wording, she was a smart woman and he knew she was aware of what he was asking. She took a deep breath and nodded, her face falling even more. It was strange to see such emotion in her expression, it was usually just neutral and blank.

"Sort of." She whispered, from the way her arms were moving slightly Steve assumed she was fidgeting with her hands. "I mean, it was hard not to have some idea about how he felt, we went on dozens of missions together. I just… always hoped it would pass, or that I was reading things wrong." She sighed and Steve wished he could wrap his arms around her, provide the comfort she needed yet refused. "What am I supposed to do?" She looked up at him with such desperation that it was hard for Steve to maintain his composure. He was pissed beyond words at Clint and the next time he saw him, he couldn't guarantee that he wouldn't made a grab for his neck. That anger was only increasing as he saw the distress Natasha was being put under.

"For a starter, you aren't supposed to feel guilty." He told her, standing up and moving around beside her.

"But-"

"No, this isn't your fault Natasha." He caved and wrapped his arms around her, thankful that she made no move to pull away though she didn't exactly hug him back. "Clint is tough enough to handle anything. It's not like you led him on right?"

"Of course not! I-"

"So you aren't the evil vixen in this situation and you have nothing to feel bad about." Steve rubbed gentle circles across her back with fingers that were capable of breaking steel. "You don't need to worry, just take a breath and calm down because getting yourself all worked up is not going to help anybody."

"Says the man who ripped a door from its hinges in an effort to chase him down." There was a little scorn in her voice but he could hear the smile in it too. Steve tried not to focus on the anger he had been feeling at that moment, when he could have quite literally torn Clint apart. He couldn't believe what he had said to Natasha and if he got a chance he was going to force the archer to apologize. He knew that he should be leaving it to the two of them to sort out but he was too furious to stay out of the situation.

"I'm going to have a shower." She told him, gently easing herself out of his arms. They felt empty without her but he was hardly going to run after her and force her into a colossal bear hug. Steve nodded and watched her go, wishing his shirt didn't end so low and prevent his eyes from being treated to a stunning view.

It was still hard to believe what had happened between them, everything had unfolded so fast that it felt like it had flown by. Even though he knew he shouldn't follow her, his feet began to move of their own accord and soon he had found himself at the door to the main bathroom. He could hear the shower running and since the door was slightly ajar he could see the steam coming through the gap. It didn't take him long to make the decision to enter, moving inside silently, the sound of his footsteps masked by the noise of the running water.

If there was ever a sight to leave him speechless, it was Natasha standing under a stream of hot water, fiery curls tied into a ponytail with her naked body subjected to the spray. Instantly, Steve was aware of his pants tightening significantly and he shed them as fast as he possibly could, crossing the distance to the shower cubicle and opening the door to step inside. She turned as he entered and the view of the water cascading over her breasts was enough to encourage him to press his lips to hers before she could even speak.

If she didn't want him in the shower with her, she showed no sign of her true feelings and she kissed him back almost as passionately. He placed his hands at her hips and lifted her, groaning into her lips as she wrapped her legs around him and one of her hands took his painfully hard erection, guiding it to the place they both so desperately needed it to be. He pushed himself into her, one hand wrapping around her back to hold her as close to him as possible and his other hand gripping her ass tightly as he pushed her back against the wall.

She moaned loudly as the action ignited fire between them and Steve wasted no time before beginning to thrust violently, any sort of patience being lost. She arched her back and the movement allowed Steve to push deeper, raising himself onto his toes with every thrust.

"Oh, God Natasha." He moved his lips down her neck, hearing another pleasure filled moan as he nibbled gently, keeping up the pace of his hips. His cock was straining inside her, the sheer feeling of her muscles moving around him was blissful and when he felt her orgasm take hold it was by pure will that he fought against his own release that threatened to come along with hers. He was aware of her nails digging into his shoulders and he heard the string of Russian words that left her lips as she came, briefly wondering what she was saying but at the same time not really caring. It was the tone of her voice that interested him, the delight, the passion that he could hear.

As she started collapse against him, her body shuddering with rolls of aftershocks form the orgasm, Steve refused to slow or stop, placing both hands on her hips to pull her down onto his cock vigorously. He feel her tightening around him, her legs retained their grip and her muscles contracted around his cock, threatening to send him over the edge no matter how hard he was trying to hold out. It wasn't long before her moans started up again, coming with more pitch and volume than before, her nails pressing in harder and only causing Steve to be more forceful with his thrusts.

The water cascading over them caused their bodies to slip and increased the feeling each time Steve yanked her hips toward his, straining to push himself as deep as possible.

"Steve…." Hearing his name moaned with such lust was enough to take away the hold he had over his body and he was nearly blinded with the power of his release, slamming his hips into Natasha with enough force to crack the wall. Somewhere in his golden moment of pleasure he was aware of her reaching a second orgasm, unintelligible sounds spilling from her lips as she rode the waves with him.

His knees gave out rapidly and he sunk to the ground, still keeping himself inside her and keeping her pressed against the wall. He growled as the water sprayed directly into his face and reached up to grab the shower knob, ripping it from the wall in an effort to stop being pelted with hot water. As the spray ceased and the noise of the shower died, Steve became aware of how loudly he and Natasha were both breathing. One would think they had been deprived of air for a long time, considering the way both of the gasped.

He didn't move as she wrapped her arms tighter around his shoulder and rested her forehead against his neck, her shallow breaths sending shivers across his skin. He kissed the top of her head gently and felt her lips kiss his neck in return, making him smile Natasha was so much softer than anybody gave her credit for and he truly did feel privileged to be seeing that side of her.

"You broke the wall." She mumbled after awhile of them simply trying to catch their breath.

"Did I break you?" He asked, making it clear by his tone that she was far more important than a crack in the wall.

"I'll get back to you on that." She muttered and he laughed, taking a deep breath before standing, still clutching her tightly. Her legs dropped their hold around him and he was forced to release her, reluctantly allowing her to stand and sliding out of her.

"Seriously though, did I hurt you?" It was only after the vigorous sex that Steve felt a wave of guilt for being so rough. He understood that she was tough in both mental and physical aspects, she could handle a lot more than even he would be aware of, but he was still a soldier that had been imbued with super strength, there was a possibility of hurting her so easily.

"I'm fine." She assured him, smoothly stepping past him to grab a towel from the cabinet. As she did so, Steve noticed the bruises along her wrists from their previous escapades and his guilt tripled. He opened his mouth to say something but realized that there was nothing for him to say. She would not accept an apology and would hate to appear weak. He made a mental note to be gentler in the future if he was going to pin her wrists down. As she wrapped the towel around her waist and tucked the edges in, he leaned against the shower frame and watched her with a smile. She must have sensed his eyes on her and turned with an annoyed look that he knew was false.

"Yes?" She asked sweetly, her tone filled with warning.

"Nothing." He said with a shrug. "Just enjoying the view." His grin widened as the corner of her lips twitched for a moment before she resumed a serious face once again.

"Look are you just going to stand there all day or-" He cut her off by stepping forward and cupping her jaw, kissing her with a fierce passion. She hit his chest pointedly but Steve only increased the power of the kiss and wrapped his arms around her, trying and failing to be gentle with his hold. She caved and kissed him back, causing him to smile before finally releasing her and noting how pink cheeked she was.

"Where are you going?" He asked as she swiftly turned and walked from the room, seemingly angry.

"To get dressed!" She yelled back, definite annoyance filling her tone. Steve only continued to smile as he grabbed a towel and wrapped it around his waist. The day had gone from good, to terrible, to fantastically amazing, he could only wonder where it would take him next.


	13. Visitors

Natasha didn't even know what to think anymore, her emotions had taken over her mind and it was hard to reign them back in. She knew for certain that she wanted Steve. Wanted those muscular arms to be wrapped around her, wanted those powerful hips to be thrusting into her, wanted those stunning eyes to be looking at her and _only_ her. That was confusing her wildly, she had never been possessive of anything before, she had never really had anything to be possessive of. She hardly cared for material things and the same went for people, she may be close to a select few, but she didn't consider any of them to be 'hers'.

Except she _wanted_ Steve to be hers.

Her mind was too overwhelming to understand what she felt and so she worked on shutting it out. She could focus on the physical need she had for him and that was fine, it was like an itch that needed to be scratched, a fire that needed to be doused.

As she dressed, she became aware of the aching of her hips and smiled at the thought of what had caused it and the force used in the event. He really was unlike any man she had ever been with, the sheer strength he had at his disposal was intoxicating. Images started to roll through her mind but were interrupted when she heard a knock at the front door. She froze in the act of pulling her shirt on, her arms contorted forward in a strange position as her ears strained to confirm she hadn't imagined the noise.

When she heard another knock she quickly pulled her shirt over her head and snatched a gun from her bag, running to the window to see if the front door was visible from the guest room. She pulled back the curtain and glanced to the side but whoever was standing on the porch was out of sight, causing her to swear under her breath.

She listened to see if Steve was making his way to the front door but she couldn't hear him and though she knew he could move quieter than his body size would suggest, she knew that she would still be able to hear him.

"Steve?" She hissed as loudly as she dared, not entirely sure where he was in the house. When she received no answer she crept out into the hall and quickly made her way to the front door. She pressed her ear to the door and didn't flinch in any way as another knock sounded almost directly adjacent to the location of her head. One hand tightened around the gun and she flicked the safety off as her other hand grasped the door handle. In a smooth motion she stepped to the side and yanked the door open, pointing the gun at the figure on the other side of the door.

The delivery man blinked in surprised at the sudden opening of the door and then gasped in shock as he realized there was a gun aiming directly for the centre of his forehead. His hands automatically flew to a surrendering position, causing the box he was carrying to drop onto the porch. Natasha ignored it and kept her aim steady, her face becoming deadly.

"Whoa, whoa, I'm sorry!" The young man exclaimed, taking a hurried step backwards, terror flooding his expression as his eyes tried to keep focus on both the gun and Natasha. She said nothing as he continued to walk backwards, his skin growing whiter with every step until he had reached his delivery van and scrambled inside, stalling the engine in his hurry to leave.

"Was that someone at the door?" Natasha lowered her gun and turned as Steve called to her down the hall, seeing him come around the corner a moment later. His eyes noticed the gun almost instantly and he watched her carefully as she picked up the package and brought it inside, closing the door behind her with her foot. She flicked the safety back on the gun and held the box out to him, her face as neutral as she could possibly make it.

He made no move to accept the package, his eyes locking to hers and holding more emotional depth than she wanted to see. "Natasha…."

"Not the first time I've pulled a gun on a civilian." She simply said, dropping the package pointedly and walking past him. He grabbed her arm to stop her and she complied, but kept her gaze on the wall behind him.

"Who exactly did you expect it to be?" He made it seem as though she had anticipated a horde of armed snipers that had lined up at the front gate to shoot her the moment she opened the door.

"I don't know, that is the point." She spoke each word forcefully, not entirely happy with the amount of anger that came through. "It could have been anybody, whether civilian or enemy-"

"And what if you had shot someone innocent?"

She glanced up at him then, frankly insulted by the question. She was hardly a greened rookie with a single day of training under her belt, with a gun she was unmatched and she wasn't so stupid that she couldn't tell who was her enemy and who was not. Since she felt the question was ridiculous, she didn't bother commenting and just gave him a look that she hoped conveyed her opinion of the matter.

He seemed to realize his error and she watched his face as he evidently thought over who she was and just how capable she could be. He released his grip on her arm and moved his hand to cup her cheek instead. She didn't pull away but she made no move to encourage the action. He took it upon himself to lean forward and kiss her gently, a kiss she returned but with enough stiffness to make it clear she was angry at him.

"Come on." He said, stooping to grab the package, "I'll show you what I hope is in here." He gave her a smile and turned, giving her the choice whether to follow him or not. She sighed as she watched him leave her sight and then she walked back to her room to return the gun to her bag, quickly moving back out to find Steve.

She located him outside near the unassembled parts of the motorbike, using a small knife to slice into the box. He didn't mention anything about their minor argument as she knelt beside him, curious as to what would be inside. The small device was wrapped in far too many protective layers and when he eventually pulled it right out, Natasha had no idea what she was looking at. Just as she was about to ask for an explanation, something close to an explosion occurred to the side of her and she was forced to throw her hands over her head as a powerful burst of air sent dirt and grass to pelt her relentlessly.

When the blast ceased she looked toward the direction it had originated and blinked in surprised as she laid eyes on the kneeling figure of a red caped God. She stood before he did and when he lifted his head to nod at her and Steve she was hit with a foreboding feeling that she believed to be entirely justified. The only reason she could think of that would bring Thor back to Earth so soon, would be if Loki had slipped his bonds and had returned for revenge. As it turned out, Steve was thinking along the exact same lines as her.

"Please tell me this visit is not because your brother has escaped his bonds." He asked, stepping forward to move a couple of parts back to the tarp after they had rolled away during Thor's dramatic landing. Thor didn't seem overly bothered that the first words Steve had even uttered were more or less an accusation and not even a greeting.

"I thought you had that psycho well cuffed." Natasha added, her mind already running flashbacks of Loki's attempt to reign over the Earth, the devastation he had caused and the deaths that had come at his hand.

"You mean _this_ psycho?" She spun around as she heard the sarcastically smooth voice speak from behind her, her heart beginning to race as she saw Loki step casually out of the back door, his hands splayed to mockingly indicate he was not cuffed. He looked past her to Thor, his expression retaining his sneer. "Really Thor. You must work on your landings, have you ever arrived in a location without causing immediate havoc?"

Before Natasha could even consider the best way to react, Steve had stepped to her and roughly yanked her behind him, creating a barrier between her and Loki. On any other occasion she would have been frustrated by the blatant insinuation that she was too weak to handle the enemy. But Loki was stronger than her by far and she had no hope to take him in a physical fight, Steve held every chance to hold out longer than she could.

"What is this?" He asked Thor, keeping and arm in front of her in case she tried anything, or in case Loki did. His voice changed from the softness that she had almost gotten used to, sounding so much like Captain America that he looked strange without the full suit and shield. "Thor, what the hell is going on."

"He is not here to harm you." Thor insisted, moving around to stand beside Loki, who looked positively bored with the whole situation.

"You'll have to understand if we don't simply take that comment on faith." Natasha spat, glaring at Loki. As far as she was concerned, Norse God or not, he was public enemy number one.

Loki glanced at her and his smiled widened, unsettling her more than she thought could be possible. "As I recall, when we had our little chat you seemed not to be overly concerned about my attempts for a hostile takeover, claiming you only wanted your partner back." His eyes slid over to Steve who was of course still shirtless. 'It would appear you have gotten over him entirely. Busy little spider, aren't you."

Natasha knew he was trying to bring a reaction out of her, but even so she found it painfully difficult to keep her mouth shut, the only sound she made was the loud crack of her knuckles as she balled her fists.

"Loki!" Thor exclaimed angrily, "Cease the workings of that silver tongue or I will make good on father's promise and remove it from your mouth." Loki glared at his brother but said nothing further, reverting back to his bored appearance.

"Look Thor," Steve seemed slightly apprehensive about speaking and Natasha could tell by his tone, what it was that he was about to say. "We have official orders to shoot Loki on sight, whether you are with him or not." At his words Natasha moved back and away from Steve, causing him to spin toward her.

"That is why I have chosen to come here and not to the place of your organization's main operations." Thor explained, without really explaining anything. Natasha and Steve exchanged matching puzzled looks that must have told him they didn't understand what he was trying to tell them. "The last time we were here, your leaders tried to destroy a city when there were other options available. I do not wish that to happen again and so I have chosen to deal with the people who rose to action and not those who gave the instructions which nearly led to the death of millions."

Natasha didn't like the situation and she had an altogether terrible feeling about it, even as she realized Thor was making total sense and she reluctantly had to agree he had chosen the best option.

"Give us one reason why we should listen to anything you have to say." Steve asked Thor, who opened his mouth to reply, yet it was Loki who supplied the reason.

"Because I can assist you in finding the people who recently took you and tortured you." He spoke while looking directly at Natasha, who had no idea whether she could believe him or not.

"So says the God of Lies." She replied almost instantly.

"To a woman who is known only as a killer." He was just as quick, "Reputations can be misleading." It was obvious that he was meaning it for the both of them and it was enough to cause Natasha to grab a moment of silence, her mind buzzing with indecision. She needed to find the people who had taken her and not a trace of them had been found through SHIELD, every lead had come up dry and she was aware that the longer the trail grew cold, the less chance there was of ever finding them. But she knew that trusting Loki was a horrifically bad move and something that she would consider to be stupid in every sense of the word.

"What is the guarantee that you can find them?" She asked, her eyes narrowed in suspicion. Loki had killed many people, a few she knew, many she didn't. He had threatened to end life as she knew it but he had failed. The people that took her had made it personal and she would do anything to get her revenge on them and that included working with a killer of Loki's calibre.

"One hundred percent guaranteed." He told her, certainly spoken with every word.

"Alright." She said after a moment of intense thought. She was aware of Steve's head snapping toward her and she knew he was staring at her. "Whatever you need, if it is within my authorization to get, or within my capability to procure, you can have it."


	14. Seeking Revenge

Steve was horrified at Natasha's willingness to cooperate with a man who had brought her nothing but pain. He could not understand why she would agree to help him just because he had the ability to find the people who captured her. He grabbed her arm and roughly pulled her inside, away from the God's who were technically not even supposed to be able to travel to Earth.

"What the hell are you doing?" He hissed when he had separated her from the others. She shook her arm from his grip and gave him a look that was so devoid of personality that he nearly flinched.

"The trail has gone cold, this is a chance to find them." She sounded calm and logical, but Steve felt the whole situation was pure insanity.

"Are you kidding me?" He whispered, his eyes boring into her and apparently having no effect. "This is Loki! Think about all he has done, to you, to Clint, think about all the people he killed!"

"Right, because neither of us have even taken a life." It wasn't often that Natasha used sarcasm and Steve quickly found he did not like it. "I'm not an idiot Steve, this isn't about trusting him, or forgiving him. This is about getting the revenge that he can give me."

Steve snapped and slammed his fist into the wall directly beside her head. She didn't react in the slightest and in a horrific moment, Steve was reminded of when Clint had performed a similar action and how angry he had felt when he saw it.

"Letting your emotions run wild?" Steve closed his eyes as he heard Loki speak from beside him. The God had not wandered in through the door, he had simply appeared. "Woman can do that. They can twist you. Especially this one, she is quite devious in her nature."

Steve glanced over and his anger flared at the way Loki was looking at Natasha. She didn't notice, too busy focusing on Steve. It was a predatory look and Steve very nearly went for his neck, only Thor's arrival through the back door stopped him.

"Loki, stay in my sight!" Thor growled angrily, to which Loki just rolled his eyes.

"Yes, big brother dearest. Shall we hold hands as we cross the street as well?"

Steve turned to Loki and scowled, but the God seemed unbothered by the rage he was showing. "Get the hell out of my house." He snarled, all pretence of politeness had disappeared after the way he saw Loki look at Natasha. "Leave, now. Before I call in reinforcements."

"Not strong enough to take me by yourself?" Loki smirked, taking a step toward Steve, who turned so that Natasha was once again placed safely behind him. "Must you call another to help you?"

"Loki!" Thor grabbed his brother's shoulder and slammed him into the wall, cracking the plaster and raining down dust. "I have warned you to behave. Do not disobey me!" Steve had never seen Thor so angry, though he could not say he knew the man well. It was still a little strange to see him that way, since he knew he could be so kind and gentle as well. He suddenly wondered if others were startled when he lost his own temper, usually being so calm and polite. People didn't seem to understand that he had anger within him, they just assumed he was a gentle soul. But someone could not go through a war and come out the other side without emotional scarring.

"Get off me you insufferable oaf!" Loki pushed his brother away and straightened the front of his robes, his pride taking a huge blow. Steve smirked a little at the way Loki was forced to conform to Thor's will. He would have liked to have seen him be shoved around some more, but it seemed Thor was content with leaving him be for the moment. The golden haired God turned to him and Natasha with a hardened expression.

"This arrival was not supposed to be so hostile." He told them, looking apologetic. "We came for your help. I know it is a lot to ask of you, but the situation has become desperate and we can no longer simply hope for the best. It is time for action."

Steve was still riled up and full of anger, but the way Thor spoke with such pleading was enough to get him to focus. It was only then that he noticed a few scratches and bruises along the man's skin, dints and scrapes could clearly be seen in his armor. "Have you been in a fight?" Steve asked, surprised when Loki actually snorted.

"A fight? Yes, you could say that-" He cut off his mocking response as Thor threw him a look. Steve was becoming curious as to why Loki seemed to be taking orders so well from his brother, even if he had to constantly be reminded of those orders.

"It was more of a battle." Thor explained calmly. "Though, perhaps it would be best described as a war."

"With who?" Natasha spoke up, but Thor lifted his hand impatiently.

"It does not matter." He said and Steve was about to argue, but realized it was clear that Thor did not wish to discuss it. "But I must warn you, that war is rapidly spilling onto Asgardian soil. I cannot allow this to happen.

"Look, I'm sorry about all that." Steve said honestly, "But I don't see how any of us can help you with an actual war. Are you asking us to assist you in battle?"

"That is one plan." Loki stepped forward, obviously wishing to speak again, though he kept his tone calm so that he was not silenced once more. "In the meetings of war, there is always two sides. The brutes argue for direct violence and force-" He flicked his hand in clear indication toward Thor. "And the sorcerer's dwell on magical solutions. Thor's plan is to have the mighty _Avengers_ rush in and save the day. Many will die on all sides, including most of you, if you were to agree."

"And _your_ plan?" Natasha asked quietly, before Steve could even voice the same question.

"My plan will avoid blood loss." Loki said casually. "I wish to reinforce the magical barriers that surround Asgard. This will stop all who try to enter and there will be no cause for warriors to lay down their lives."

It was silence in the hall for a few seconds. Steve did not know about Natasha, but he was desperately trying to figure out if Loki was lying or not. Surely he couldn't be serious about trying not get people killed, he had been happy enough to lay waste to the Earth.

"So why do _you_ need our help?" Natasha asked, pointing at Loki with raised eyebrows, clearly she couldn't tell whether to believe him either.

"There is a scroll hidden on this pathetic realm, it contains a very complicated spell that we need to protect our world." Loki clicked his tongue, his impatience showing.

"Can't you, work a spell to find it? Or something?" Steve asked hesitantly, having absolutely no idea how magic worked. Loki rolled his eyes as though it was a ridiculous question.

"It is a little more complicated than that." He said calmly, but gave no further explanation. "We have been given three days to find and complete the spell, before the entire army rides out for war."

Steve took a moment to digest everything, knowing that he needed to make a decision which held weight either way. Loki was still their enemy, whereas Thor was their ally and Steve felt like they owed one for saving their world from the destruction of another. But he could not risk any kind of allegiance with Loki, the man was dangerous and he could not be trusted.

"No." He said very calmly, with a serious face. "No, we cannot help you."

"I'll help you." Natasha said quickly, and the eyes of the Gods quickly fell to her as she stepped into full view, ignoring the way Steve tried to make a grab for her. "I will help you find this stupid scroll if you get me to the men that took me."

"Natasha no." Steve said, with his Captain voice leaking through. "No, absolutely not." She gave him an unreadable look before walking over to stand in front of Loki. "Natasha, stand down, now! That is an order!"

Loki glanced up at Steve, an infuriating grin crossing the man's face as he placed a hand on Natasha's shoulder. "You lose, Captain." He said quietly. The very next second they had vanished, leaving no trace of themselves where they had just been standing. Steve stared in shock for a moment, before lunging forward with his hands out, as if they were merely invisible and he would be able to feel them. With wide eyes, he turned to Thor and grabbed him by the front of his metal armor, slamming him into the wall.

"Where is she!" He yelled, shaking the God without any fear of repercussions. The two had fought together, had saved each other, but he was ready to get Natasha back though any method possible. "Tell me!"

"I do not know." Thor replied calmly, easing Steve's fists away from him. "He will not harm her." Even as he said the words, it was clear that Thor did not sincerely believe them, merely hoped that they were true. Steve growled in frustration before turning away and storming down the hall to find his new cellphone. He was shaking as he dialled, pure rage spilling through him as he imagined removing Loki's head from his neck. If he hurt her, if he laid one maliciously intended finger on her, then Steve was going to kill him, whether he was a God or not.

The phone rang twice before it was answered, an impatient voice speaking from the other end.

"Hello? Cap is that you? I'm kind of busy-"

"Stark, Loki is back." Steve struggled to keep his voice calm and knew he was failing. "And Thor. Get here. Now." The last word was spoken with so much hatred that he knew Tony would have picked up on it.

"What's going on?" He asked and Steve could hear metal moving in the background, praying it was Tony getting into his suit.

"Loki has taken Natasha." Steve hissed, hearing only silence on the other end for a few moments.

"I'm on my way." Tony said quickly and then there was a click as the call ended.

* * *

**Sorry for the short chapter, hang on for a contrasted one next time. **


	15. Passing of an Idol

Nearly two hours after Loki had magically disappeared with Natasha, Steve had come very close to literally seeing red. Tony was absolutely no help, he seemed to have been convinced by Thor that Loki would not lay any harm on Natasha. But, every time that sort of thing was suggested, it was Clint who blew a fuse. Steve hadn't wanted to call Clint in, he was absolutely livid at the man but he had to accept that Natasha's partner needed to be made aware of the situation. Especially considering that partner had been the last person that Loki took off with.

As much as Clint had hated Steve for the act he had walked in on, he was beyond hatred at the new situation. He had threatened Steve's life if Loki laid a finger on her, deciding immediately that it was going to be Steve's fault that she was taken. Tony and Thor had both tried to calm the archer down, but Steve could only agree, he blamed himself. He was terrified that she would come back injured, or that she wouldn't come back at all. She was supposed to be under his watch and he had let her walk off with a vengeful God known for his temper issues.

"Why aren't they back yet?" Steve slammed his fist against the lounge wall, cracking the plaster. It seemed the new house was coming under just as much distress as the old one, once again Natasha was at the centre of the cause.

"Calm down Cap." Tony drawled and Steve didn't turn to know he was rolling his eyes. They were all standing in the lounge, none of them had felt like sitting and the room wasn't exactly spacious, so the area was crammed. Though Steve had pushed some of the unopened boxes into the kitchen to gain more room.

"Has the trace picked up anything yet?" Clint asked, calmer than Steve by a long run, but obviously still worked up. When Tony shook his head after listening in on JARVIS for a moment, Steve's feeble hopes were once again crushed. The archer and the Captain pretty much refused to look at each other and their blatant hostility to one another was obvious to Tony, yet Thor was oblivious.

"Is there a specific reason that you two look like you want to kill each other?" Tony stepped forward, prompting Steve to turn and see he was pointing at him and Clint. "I had to twist your arm to get you to call Clint, I assumed you would have rung him before me."

"Our Captain seems to have altered his priorities a little." Clint's voice was heavy with sarcasm and Steve set his jaw hard, not wanting to snap at the man but feeling it may not be preventable. "She's good though, isn't she?" He looked directly at Steve, his eyes boring straight into him. "That's what everybody always says –the best. Do you want to know how many have been in there before you? It's one hell of a high numb-"

"Don't you _dare_ talk about her like that!" Steve hissed, his fists balling so hard that the cracking of his knuckles was audible. "She's supposed to be your friend!"

"Yeah? Well so were you." Clint's words stung Steve a little and he opened his mouth to reply, but Tony decided to jump into the mix, as usual, not exactly helping the situation.

"Alright, someone tell me what's going on." He folded his arms and dropped onto the couch, buckling the entire thing from the weight of his suit. "Because honestly? Sounds like Steve's had a dip with our missing assassin, only I _know_ that can't be true."

He looked between the two arguing men but neither of them said a word, leading Tony to realize his initial assessment was correct. His eyes widened and he unfolded his arms, but remained seated, focusing his gaze on Steve.

"How?" He asked, sounding rather amazed at the whole concept.

"I- what?" Steve was wildly confused, sure the legendary playboy Tony Stark was not actually asking _how_ it all worked.

"I've wanted to get on that ride for months, ever since she floored my bodyguard." He leaned back on the couch and spread his arms along the back of it, grinning at Steve. "That was before I even knew she was an assassin. When I found out, yeah, I admit, it was a hell of a turn on. I mean, the flexibility on that woman must be unparalleled. "

Steve took a step toward Tony, not exactly sure of what he planned to do, but he had enough sudden anger to inflict a good deal of pain. He was stopped in his undecided action as a blue haze filled the room and two figures suddenly appeared in the doorway to the kitchen. Nobody moved as the light faded and the shapes manifested with definitive outlines, revealing the two people that had been missing.

"Get the hell off me!" Those were the first words Steve heard from Natasha after he had begun to fear he would never even hear her voice again. Loki was holding her by her upper arm, but it was abundantly clear he was only doing it to keep her steady. At her snarled request, he relinquished his hold and stepped away from her, causing her to make a grab for the door frame in order to remain standing.

Steve realized with horror that she was covered in blood and could hardly stay on her feet. He snapped out from his shock faster than anybody else and rushed forward. But Clint was far more agile, the guy had grown up in the circus and he cleared the couch easily, leaping over Tony in his haste to get to his injured partner.

"I'm okay." She panted as her eyes lifted to Clint's. Steve felt like he had been kicked in the chest and forced to the side as Clint gently checked her for any serious injuries that needed to be taken care of straight away. "My shoulder is dislocated." She told him with a groan, moving her hand away from it so Clint could take a look. He placed a firm hand on her shoulder and gritted his teeth.

"On three." He told her. "One, two-" The sound of her shoulder being wrenched back into her socket was louder than Steve's knuckles had been and even though Natasha's face shaded even paler, she made no noise of pain.

"Bastard." She hissed, rolling her shoulder to alleviate the tension.

"When have I _ever_ actually done it one three? At least I counted to two that time before I did it."

Steve turned away from what he assumed to be a familiar scene for the assassins, how many times had they needed to patch each other up after a mission? They worked so well together it was almost sickening, Steve doubted there was anyone else that Natasha would allow to snap her shoulder back into place. She obviously trusted the man, this thought sent a raging fire through Steve's body and when he met eyes with Tony, he could see the knowing look in them.

"What happened?" He asked Loki, trying to resist the urge to kill the God.

"Death happened." Loki said with a tone that bordered on gleeful. "She really is quite fascinating to watch. No matter what happens, she does not slow down. The blood trail she accumulated is rather impressive." He looked past Steve to where Natasha was now leaning on Clint, who had a supportive arm around her waist. "More red for the ledger, Natalia?"

Natasha's eyes lifted to meet Loki's and she mouthed a very pointed curse at him, one that even Steve could read from her lips. Tony chuckled and Thor just looked confused, Loki didn't even seem to care. Clint nudged Natasha and she nodded, allowing him to guide her away from the group, leading her down the hall. Steve watched them go with a heavy heart, feeling as though he was now completely unneeded. How could Clint go from hating her, to being the one person she seemed to trust. He tried to walk after them, but Tony grabbed his shoulder, metal fingers pressing lightly into his skin.

"Leave it." He said quietly and hurriedly continued before Steve could tell him to fuck off. "Put your ego aside for the moment and just let her partner take care of her. You have to think about what _she_ needs right now."

Sometimes, -not very often, but sometimes, Tony came out with some wisdom filled advice and Steve had to admit that it was one of those rare moments. But as usual, he completely ruined the sentimental moment with some utter bullshit and Steve was not in the mood to deal with it the usual way of remaining silent and simply giving him a death glare. "Besides," Tony grinned, "If you want back into her pants, you may have to wait until she has healed a bit."

The sound of Steve's fist breaking Tony's nose was the most satisfying one he had ever heard in his life. There was a howl from the billionaire as he stumbled backwards and crashed onto the couch, snapping the lumbar support within. Steve heard a string of vivid curses but he was beyond the point of caring.

"We should have come back to visit a long time ago." Loki said happily, bending to his knees and touching a finger to Tony's forehead. Even as the man writhed in pain, the blood dripping down his face disappeared and there was a second crack as his nose moved back into place. When Loki stood, Steve was there in an instant, glaring daggers at him.

"You can heal? Get your ass in there and fix her up!"

Loki pointedly took a step away from Steve, as though it was degrading for him to be so close to a human. "She does not want me to." He said quietly, earning confusion from everybody in the room, even Thor, who knew Loki better than anybody, was not appeased by the answer. "I already asked if she would like magical assistance with her wounds. She refused. Then threatened to cut off my head if I tried anyway. Fiery little thing."

"I don't understand." Tony said slowly as he pulled himself to his feet, gently rubbing his nose. "Why wouldn't she want to be patched up?"

"I understand." Thor said quietly and even Steve was aware of the contrasting parallel of Thor knowing something that Tony didn't. "Each wound that she bears right now, is a mark of victory. On Asgard, the warriors return from battle with pride, each scar is a sign of that soldiers vitality for life."

"This isn't Asgard!" Steve said angrily, keeping his gaze on Loki. "Get in there and heal her!"

Loki's face changed to rage immediately and he suddenly appeared in front of Steve, his eyes glaring daggers at the man. The temperature of the room dropped significantly and as Loki spoke, there was an icy threat laced in every word. "Do not presume your status and rank work over me. I, am a God. You are a bacterial infection that inhabits this planet. You, are, _nothing_."

Steve had been threatened before, he was not fazed by this new one and he met Loki's gaze without a flicked of fear. "And yet, you came here for _our_ help." He hissed the words, trying to make it seem like Loki should be embarrassed by the whole situation. Loki grinded his teeth, clearly choosing the options available to him. Before any sort of attack could be relayed, Thor had stepped forward and pulled Loki away.

"I'd like to know something." Tony piped up, either to try and break the tension of the room or merely because his curiosity had peaked. "The Cap told me that you two foreigners already knew about Natasha's kidnapping before you came. How?"

Steve suddenly realized that he wanted to know the answer to that as well, they had been fully aware of the situation as soon as they arrived, Loki had even commented on what had been transpiring between Steve and Natasha.

"There is one who can watch the Earth." Thor informed them, his tone bordering on dramatic and mystical. "He relays information to us. I have specifically asked him to keep an eye on certain things, including the happenings of this team."

Steve balled his fists again, his anger levels rising. "So, when Natasha was taken and _tortured_, you knew about it and you knew where to find her?"

There was an uncomfortable moment when Thor swallowed and exchanged a look with Loki, who had reverted to his bored appearance. "Yes." Thor admitted.

"Why the hell couldn't you have helped us out?" Tony asked before Steve could.

"Thor has other priorities." Loki spoke up. "He does not need to rush into this miserable planet every time one of you snivelling mortals makes a mistake."

"She was tortured!" Steve yelled, taking a furious step toward Thor. To everybody's shock, Loki actually placed himself between them. Both Steve and Tony were stunned beyond words at the way this villain had chosen to act. Steve didn't know if he was even going to attack Thor, but the way Loki all but threw himself in the way was confusing. And yet, Loki seemed to be annoyed by his own actions, which didn't help the confusion Steve was feeling.

"Step back." Thor told Loki, his tone laced with an order and Loki was only too happy to comply. "There is an sworn oath that binds him to my words." Thor explained, seeing the faces of the other two men. Steve suddenly understood why Thor had been able to order him around so easily. "And he is bound to protect me from danger." He added.

"Why the hell would you swear an oath like that to your older bro?" Tony asked Loki, who was glaring at everybody in the room in turn.

"I did not." He answered cryptically. "I swore it to the _King_ of Asgard."

Tony and Steve exchanged a sudden look before they turned back to Thor, who nodded to confirm their unasked questions. "It is true." He admitted.

The grin that crossed Tony's face was so wide it must have been painful, he slapped Steve on the back and with his arm in the suit, it probably would have broken anybody else's spine. "Captain! You have royalty in the mix, go and fetch the fine china!"

"Stark you idiot." Steve sighed, rubbing his back. "He was already royalty before."

"Yeah, but now he is the top dog." Tony said, resting an elbow on Steve's shoulder. "Wait, what about your father? Wasn't he the almighty and powerful God of God's?"

Tony may not have realized, but Steve could see the emotion that the question brought out in Thor. He swallowed before answering, his tone solemn when he did. "My father is dining in Valhalla." He looked at Loki, who had enough sense to drop the boredom expression. "The war that threatens our world, was too much for him."

A saddening silence fell upon them all, before Tony removed his elbow from Steve and gripped Thor's shoulder tightly. "I'm sorry buddy. Really."

Steve didn't know what to say. He was the Captain that they all turned to for inspiration in hard times, but what was he supposed to say about the passing of an idol? There would be nothing in his vocabulary to cover it and no doubt it would be insulting for him to try. "I'm going to check on Natasha." He finally said quietly, leaving Tony to try and pull a reluctant Thor into what he explained was a 'bro hug'.

Steve didn't know where they had gone, but he was easily able to follow Natasha's blood trail down to the guest bedroom, of which the door had been shut. He didn't bother to knock, just pushed his way in and stopped dead when he saw them lying on the bed, Clint cupping Natasha's cheeks, their lips locked together.


	16. Wrong Conclusions

**Okay, so I wasn't going to update this so fast, but after the amount of arguments in the reviews, I kind of had to. So everybody threw up their arms at the end of the last chapter right? Well put them back down so I can explain the situation. I mean you guys were as quick as Steve to jump to the WRONG conclusion. Just take a breather and I have to say sorry to the Clintasha fans for this one. (For the record, I love Clint, he is awesome, I'm just not a fan of the ship and I have no idea why.) **

* * *

Steve did not know what to do. He froze, for the first time in a long time. He was so good at being the Captain and leading the team, he could function through the worst possible situation and come out mentally unscathed. But seeing the two assassins kiss, well that hurt. He felt sick, angry, upset, jealous, just about every emotion that had been attached to a corresponding color was running through him and crippling his heart. Most of all, he felt betrayal. He thought he and Natasha had something brewing. He really did.

He knew it was hard for her to let anybody into her life, let alone her heart and it was difficult for him as well. He had been pulled from his life and slammed into another, quite literally finding himself in the future all of a sudden. He hadn't known who to trust, who he could rely on. He was alone in the world as much as she was. But he had found her and if he was truthful to himself, he was definitely falling for her. Maybe he could never expect such a deep emotion in return from her, but at least he had been able to show her that he cared, that she could let her guard down around him, because he could keep her safe.

So all that was suddenly for nothing, as he realized that in the end she would never be his. She would always be Clint's as everybody had always expected her to be. It was a foolish dream, to think he could tame the Black Widow. He turned away, not wanting to see what he had just walked in on, not wanting to see Natasha in the arms of another man. A man who had always been there to protect her, who had made the call _not_ to end her life, all those years ago. Maybe they were perfect for each other. Maybe.

Steve's thoughts were interrupted by the very definitive sound of a slapped hand against flesh. He moved back to the door of the room, not entirely sure what he was even going to see, his mind was too torn up from the last scene.

"Get out!" Natasha snarled at Clint, who was holding his cheek, a red mark already beginning to form. He looked shocked, she looked beyond livid. Steve could honestly say he had never seen her so angry.

"What's going on?" He asked, confusion evident in his voice. Natasha ignored him, her eyes were focused on Clint with so much loathing he should have promptly burst into flames.

"Agent Barton was just leaving." She very nearly hissed the words and the depersonalization was evident. The comment clearly stung, but Clint did not move.

"Natasha-"

"Get. Out." She cut him off with harshly spoken words and a look that could have made even the most resolute man flinch.

"You cannot be serious!" Clint slid off the bed but made it clear he was not going anywhere. "You are going to chose _him_ over me? After all we have been together? I have saved your life so many times and you have probably saved my life more! You can't just throw away that connection for a buff supersoldier who doesn't even belong in our time!"

It was then that Steve chose to intervene, his mind was running the conclusion that Natasha had not been part of the kiss, it had just looked that way in his initial shock. Since there was a renewed hope for him to have her, he could not stand to see her being shouted at, especially while still injured. It didn't matter that she could handle it.

"Time for you to go." He issued the command with a voice that was very much the Captain inside him. Clint turned to face him, the anger in his eyes was evident. "She doesn't need this right now." The meaning behind his words was clear –'she doesn't need _you_'

As though he understood what Steve was saying, he turned back to Natasha and though Steve could not see his face, he assumed the man was looking for confirmation. Any other woman would have looked away, unable to meet Clint's eyes, but Natasha was not like anybody else and though there was emotional pain in her expression, her met Clint's gaze with resolution. There seemed to be a full conversation flowing between them and Steve realized that they were probably so used to each other that they didn't even need to speak to understand each other. That was what made them the best team, they worked so fluently together.

For a second, Steve was hit with a wave of pure guilt. Could he really step in between that team and break that bond? He would be absolutely that relationship, taking away one of the few people Natasha could rely on and trust with her life. But, in his selfishness, he knew he would do anything to have her, anything to keep her safe and he could not let her be with Clint, even if it would mean she was happy. Besides, she didn't seem to react in a joyful way when he had kissed her, the red mark on his cheek was blooming into the shape of a handprint. Steve had seen the result of Natasha's punches, but never a slap and he was altogether impressed.

They didn't even exchange any words after their in depth look, Clint just gave her a formal sort of nod before turned and storming from the room. He did not look at Steve and it saddened him a little, to know that he was losing a friend.

"You're dead." Clint whispered it so quietly that Steve could not even be sure that it wasn't imagined. Natasha didn't hear it of course, she had her head in her hands and for a moment, Steve actually thought she was crying. A second later he realized how stupid that assumption was, but she did in fact look close to breaking. There wasn't that much Steve knew about Natasha, he had read most of her files, being her Captain and all that, but since she was a top level spy, a good deal of her information was blacked out. He did know that Clint had saved her and they had been an unstoppable team ever since.

He slowly approached her and reached out an hand to her shoulder, unsure of how much offered comfort would be too much for her. "Do you want me to go?" He asked quietly, not really having any intention of leaving if she said yes. She was injured and upset, there may not have been actual tears, but it was certainly in her body language and Steve was not going to leave her alone. Her hand shot up to grab his gently placed one on her shoulder and she gripped them as though afraid he was going to suddenly pull away.

"No, please, stay." Her voice was so broken that it tore through Steve's heart, though that pain wasn't nearly as bad as what he had felt when he thought he had seen Natasha and Clint kissing. Now that the shock was over and he had calmed, her could dwell on the image of that memory and realize she had been pushing at his chest, her face contorted with strain. If he hadn't been so quick to jump to conclusions, he could have looked at the situation logically. He eased himself on to the bed beside her, wrapping one muscular arm around her shoulders, gently in case he aggravated any injuries.

"What happened?" He asked softly, he didn't know if she wanted to talk about it, but he personally needed to know.

"Well he wasn't flattering in his comments about _you_." She admitted, not exactly surprising Steve.

"Oh imagine that." Steve drawled sarcastically. "Shock of the century." He heard her laugh in a defeated kind of way and chewed on his lip for a second before continuing. "I broke Tony's nose, by the way." He smiled as she lifted her head and met his eyes, wordlessly asking for more explanation. "He insulted your honour. In a way. I took him down, literally" She smiled a little and Steve called the situation a success, until he felt another wave of guilt about how quickly he had jumped to the wrong conclusion. "Natasha, I-"

"You thought I was kissing him back." She interrupted him with a statement that held no questioning and Steve nodded for confirmation.

"I did. I'm sorry." He kept his eyes locked into hers, not willing to insult her by avoiding her gaze. When she didn't say anything, Steve was at least thankful that she had wanted him to stay and she wasn't moving away.

"Natasha-"

"I know I'm hard to trust." She took a deep breath, apparently suddenly finding her voice. "Believe me, I know. And I know that it's my fault, it's a reputation that I have built up. I understand. Clint and I… we have been through more together than anyone could possibly imagine. The amount of times we have had to stitch each other up in the field, the bullets we had taken for each other, it is beyond possible reasoning. But he isn't what I want."

Steve listened to her patiently, it wasn't often that Natasha spoke her feelings so he sure as hell wasn't going to interrupt her. When it was clear she had finished, he opted to speak. "So what do you want?" He asked quietly, pressing his forehead to hers. He closed his eyes, enjoying the feel of her in his arms, the scent of her, the mere fact that she was becoming _his_.

"I think you know what I want Captain." She said quietly. Steve moved his head back and opened his eyes, giving her a smile.

"Oh, I have a fair idea." He said with a playful tone. "But I would like to hear you say it."

She frowned at him, but he retained the smiled, knowing it would be annoying her.

"Fine." She said, looking as though she had just lost a battle. "I want _you_." Steve grinned and kissed her cheek softly, feeling like he was victorious.

"Good. Very good. Now I need you to get better, I have a house full of people who either want to kill me, or I want to kill them. I need my top agent on the case."

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**Horribly short and probably full of spelling and grammar errors, in my haste to get this up before I have to go out, I only looked over it once and not very thoroughly, sorry about that. **


	17. Lust

**There is basically no story progression in this chapter. It is pretty much just pure smut. So, I give some serious warnings to you all. I have been slack on the updating, take this as a sex filled peace offering. **

**Seriously, warning for smut. A big warning. Oh and if you like the whole 'bad Cap' thing, as it was pointed out in one of the reviews, you are probably going to like this chapter. Especially when it comes to the mirror part. I will say no more.**

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Steve's absolutely first priority was Natasha and there was nothing that could change that. There were certainly other things that required his attention, but it did not matter, his focus was solely on her. He had to leave her for five minutes, to send his guests away, arguing that the foreign visitors were going to have to wait until Natasha was better before they could use her. Steve was already running scenarios in his mind to try and get her out of it. He managed to convince Tony to take them back to his tower, a fair amount of arguing had preceded the decision but eventually things went Steve's way and the house was quiet once again.

He had no idea where Clint had gone and truthfully he didn't care. Yes, the man had been a friend, a good one considering the lives they lived and their general lack of friends, but he had made his intentions clear and so had Steve. Natasha was the prize that both men were willing to fight for, Steve was not about to lose.

When he came back into Natasha's room, her found her trying to take off her shirt, the angle of the way she was sitting made it impossible and she had a few injuries that were making the task difficult. Steve watched in silence as she impatiently tried to wriggle out of it. "A little help?" She asked, breathless as she realized he was standing there.

"Just to be clear," Steve's grin was close to predatory, "You are asking me to take your clothes _off_? I can do that." He took a step forward but she held up her hand, giving him a look.

"Never mind, I'll do it myself." She said pointedly. He saw her face contort in strain and Steve remembered she had dislocated her shoulder, though her expression only showed a little pain, he realized she must be in agony.

"No, no, let me." He said softly, trying to show her that his joke was no longer standing. He moved to her side and assisted her, trying to help so that her arm did not have to go through such strain. When her shirt was removed, Steve tossed it to the side and immediately began to check her for more injuries. To his utter shock, she didn't protest against him. He knew it was either because she was too weak to, or she was trusting him more. He truly hoped it was the latter option.

"Thank you." She said quietly as her moved her to sit forward and checked her back. He could only see superficial scratches and bruises, aside from her shoulder there were no substantial wounds. Steve let out a sigh of absolute relief and kissed the top of her head before she could do anything to stop him.

"You scared me Natasha." He said honestly, "You just let him take you. What the hell were you thinking?" He was trying not to get angry but he could feel it bubbling up now that he had confirmation she was okay. He really wasn't surprised as she deflected it all and skilfully defused the situation before it got worse.

"Can you help me to the shower?" She asked, already trying to stand up. Steve was forced to move back and assist her, it wasn't like he was going to make her walk on her own if she was asking for help. He realized that she probably didn't really need his assistance, even though she had asked for it, she seemed to be okay and he knew she had the perseverance to limp along even if she had a broken ankle. She was asking for his help, because she knew that he needed to give it.

She knew that he needed to take care of her, even if she could manage herself. "Come on then." He sighed defeatedly, helping her stand and leading her out of her room. "My shower is bigger than the main one. There is room for two."

"Planning to join me Captain?" She asked with a clear teasing tone.

"I'm not leaving you alone." He said as though it should have been obvious as they reached his room and he moved her into the adjoining bathroom. "Alright, lose the rest of your clothes."

"I've heard better pick up lines." She said, complying and slowly shedding her other layers as he turned on the shower. It was only when she was fully naked that Steve realized two things. One, she had absolutely no problem being naked around him, or at least seemed not to have a problem, which confirmed everything he knew about what she had to do for her work, the way she had to act, the things she had to let be done _to_ her. It infuriated him to understand she didn't appear to have much of a connection to her own body, as though she didn't care for it other than a tool or a weapon to extract information. To Steve, it was something to be worshipped.

The other thing, was just how much blood covered her, but he knew hardly any of it was her own. When she had taken her revenge, it must have been brutal and bloody, she would have shown no mercy. He felt a sudden surge of respect for Natasha and how much she had been put through, only to come out stronger.

"In." He directed with a single word, pointing to the now steamed up shower cubicle. She didn't even hesitate, following his order instantly and walking past him to stand under the hot spray. The look on her face was priceless, all the strain washed out of it as the blood was rinsed from her body and Steve could have sighed at the sight. Unfortunately, for all of his chivalry and respect that he had for her, there was another side to him that seemed to awaken every time she was naked. Or anytime she spoke to him, looked at him, mentioned him, or even was around him.

His eyes stayed on her as he shed his shirt and pants, stepping in behind her and wrapping one arm around her waist, the other moving her hair to one side so he could kiss the side of her neck. He heard a tiny contented sigh from her as she leaned back against him. They had broken parts of the other shower cubicle in the main bathroom and if the situation progressed the way Steve was aiming for, he was going to end up breaking a few things in this one too.

He reached forward to pump some soap onto his hands and brought them back to Natasha's body, slowly moving his hands over her stomach and breasts, trying to assist her in cleaning the blood off. He didn't stop kissing her neck and as one of his slicked up hands slid between her legs, he felt her entire body jerk and he bit down on the side of her neck.

"Ah, Steve.." She gasped and Steve held her tightly so she could not move forward, as what her initial reflex.

"Yes? Natasha?" He started to move his hand and kept it slow, an act that was made hard by the way she gasped and almost instantly started to try and move her hips against his hand. The feeling of her wet backside grinding into him was mind blowing. He refused to make a noise, he knew that if he uttered even a single groan of pleasure, she would take control of the situation back.

It wasn't about wanting to control _her_, although he had to admit the thought of that was overwhelming, it was more about wanting her to feel safe enough to give up her control. But she must have sensed how much he was enjoying the situation and she could feel his obvious arousal pressing against her, it led her to another grind that seemed slow and purposeful, causing Steve to shut his eyes and bite down on her neck again. In response, he slid his hand further between her legs and without hesitation, forcefully pushed two soaped up fingers into her.

A moan of pure delight escaped her lips and Steve was starting to have trouble containing his lust as he slowly moved his fingers out and harshly pushed them back in. The beautiful thing with Natasha, was that she could take a lot of what he could give her, she was tough enough mentally and physically to handle him. Or at least handle what he was willing to give her, he still had to hold so much back in fear of breaking her. Everybody thought Steve was the good little Captain, the inexperienced virgin, but they were wrong. Tony knew the truth, he seemed to have picked up on it fast and understood more about Steve than most people did.

The serum that ran through his veins had increased his size –all of him. It had filled him with a hunger that fuelled him, drove him to fight for justice, to become the Captain that led them all. But there was other things it did to him. It filled him with an unparalled lust that was partly chemical and partly instinctual, forcing him to crave the touch of delicate flesh and even though there had been woman that came close to satisfying that lust, only Natasha had ever been the one to actually do it. Everything about her drew him in and having her naked and soaped up against him was torment.

As she let out another loud moan, he realized he couldn't stand it any longer and knew that his hunger was too great. He pushed her forward so her front was against the wall and spread her legs with a kick to one of her ankles. He gave her no warning as he guided himself to her entrance and roughly pushed himself into her, pressing her hard against the wall as he did so. She cried out and Steve felt her legs shake slightly, understanding that if she wasn't pinned to the wall, she would have collapsed.

He took both of her hands and stretched them above her head, interlocking his fingers with hers to grip her tightly. He thrust his hips forward and let out a groan as he felt himself slide deeper, completely enveloped by her beautiful muscles. Only a very few amount of women had been able to take all of Steve, mostly the looks on their faces had been shock as they saw how big he was. But he had seen the look of hunger in Natasha's eyes as she had first seen him and it had made him hunger for her ever since.

He used one hand to hold both of hers high above her head, his free hand coming down to somehow fit between her and the wall, rapidly moving to rub between her legs. She threw her head back and moaned loudly, an action that Steve rewarded with a vicious thrust. There was nothing like a vocal Natasha, the sounds that came from her beautiful throat were something to be cherished, the idea of any other man hearing them was something that brought forth anger in Steve.

He could feel his need for her building and knew she would be shocked by his next action. He pulled out of her, roughly moved her out of the shower and over to the porcelain sink, using his forearm to wipe away the steam from the mirror. It revealed a reflection of the two of them, both of them panting slightly and had matching looks of lust in their eyes. As Natasha tried to turn toward him, he pushed her forward so she was bending over at almost a 90degree angle, but tangled one hand in her hair so that he could gently but firmly pull her head up.

"I want you to watch me fuck you." He hissed, ensuring she was able to see the reflection of them as he roughly forced himself back inside her. He watched her expression as he did so, the way it contorted in pleasure was enough to sending him into an action of thrusting straight away. He kept one hand in her hair and the other splayed across her back so he could push her back down every time she tried to straighten up.

Her moans came in rhythm to his thrusts and each time she tried to drop her head, he pulled it back up so he could force her to watch him taking her from behind. Her hands were gripping the edges of the sink, but he could tell she was losing her hold as she neared her release. He had to wonder how many men had ever made her cum as hard as he did, how many times she had to fake it in the line of duty. But the thought of any other man even touching her was unbearable and caused him to thrust harder, maybe too hard for the woman he could not risk breaking.

But there was no pain detectable in her voice as the moans turned to soft cries which grew louder and louder as the thrusting of her own hips became more frantic. He could feel it as her orgasm took hold, the way her muscles contracted around him was mind blowing and it was by sheer will that he did not come over the edge with her. He wanted it to last as long as possible, he wanted to make her come undone over and over, while she watched him doing it. He wanted her to know that she belonged to him.

As the obviously powerful orgasm ended, he felt her body start to collapse, but he was not finished with her yet.

"We are not done here, Natasha." He groaned, unable to keep the pleasure from his own voice. He did not stop or even slow his thrusts, just continued at the same pace, even a little harder. It was not long before he had her moaning again, pushing her hips back to meet his every thrust. He knew that this should not be happening, that she should be resting, but as much as he cared about her, he was too overwhelmed by his hunger. He was nearing his own release faster than he wanted, pushing it to the back of his mind until he was absolutely ready. As he felt her frantic and desperate movements a second time, he wanted to continue holding off, to keep this blissful situation going. But he knew it was impossible, as she started to cry his name with pure demand and he dropped his hands to her hips, gripping them with impossible force as he felt the explosion of his own release, thrusting into her with more power than he knew was safe.

He groaned as he rode her and could hear pleasured cries in his ears, slamming his hips against her without any thought of repercussions. The moment his orgasm finished he could feel his legs shaking as he bent over with Natasha, placing his hands on the sink on either side of her. He could see how much she too was trembling, he could hear her ragged breathing as her lungs sought for air.

"Natasha." He gasped, unable to believe his voice would even work after that.

"Y-yes?" She panted, turning her head to look at him.

He leaned forward more so her could press his lips gently to hers, wildly contrasting to everything he had just done to her, or was about to do to her. "Did I say we were finished?" Before she could react, he summoned the energy to pull out of her, turn her roughly so that she was facing him and spread her legs with impatient hands. He felt her hands clutch as his shoulders as he entered her again, now that he was against her, he could hear her in his ear, her cries only an inch from his lips. He closed the short distance and kissed her roughly, forcing his tongue between her lips.

He moved her so she was perching on the edge of vanity unit, but not so she was far back enough to fall into the sink. He placed one hand on her backside and used it to yank her to him as he began his feverish thrusting again, his other hand lifting one of her legs to his waist so he could force himself deeper.

He could hear his name spilling from his lips with a thick accent, followed by foreign words that Steve could not understand. Those sounds were driving him wild, along with the way she arched her back and pressed her chest tightly against his. "Oh God Natasha…" He moaned in her ear, biting on her lobe with not so gentle teeth. This was heaven to Steve, there was no greater feeling that her in his arms, making the sounds that she was. He didn't want it to end, he didn't want the silence to take over those beautiful noised of pure pleasure. If it was up to Steve, he would fuck her into oblivion.


End file.
